Mischief Managed
by FizzBomb02xox
Summary: The story of how Fred Weasley survived the Battle of Hogwarts and how he made his dramatic return to the wizarding world 20 years after he thought he'd left it forever. I don't own Harry Potter or any of his original friends and family or his world, total credit to J.K. Rowling
1. Prologue

Prologue

Screams still echo in your head. Bangs and crashes play on loop your mind. Could everything really have been that horrifying when the last thing you had heard was laughter? Your laughter? That and the deafening explosion that had killed you. Eyes flick uselessly around the darkness. It's blacker than even your worst nightmares. Your hand moves out and immediately it hits solid wood. Slide it up the sides, until it reaches the roof of your prison. Is this where you are destined to stay forever? Or perhaps, this is a test- a way of proving your worth. Breath is running out. Any air that had been trapped with you has by now been used. Tap the wood. Tap the wood above you. Knock and see if anyone comes to save you. Find out if anyone believes you are still alive. Gulp for air, don't let this beat you. Push as hard as you can and release the lid.

A tiny crack. All you create is a tiny crack. But it's enough. Light floods through the gap, swiftly followed by air. Sweet, sweet air. Feel around next to you, find the few items that have been buried with you. Your eyes adjust to the light which now surrounds you. There are clouds in the cool sky, colours paint the landscape. How long has it been since you've seen nature, seen how beautiful life really is? Ease yourself up and feel the soft breeze. Allow the chirping of the birds and the whispering of the leaves to remind you of how much you could have left behind. Gather your possessions: the key, the broom, the photo and the pine wand.

Look around and see the fifty other reminders of the war. You don't want to be left there with them. Lifeless, limp horrors of a tragedy. All unburied. Scramble to your feet and run. Run far. Wind whistles in your ears, whipping your skin. Down the hill, through the grass, past the swaying trees until…

Stand in front of your old home. The windows are dark, not one light is on. The gate creaks loudly as it opens and your footsteps clap like a drum beat on the yard. Step through your house, step through the memories. Memories. One memory which is sharper than a knife blade. Guilt smacks you in the face. Suddenly, you're glad that no one is home. You're a traitor. A traitor to your family. Is there anything worse than that?

Flee.

Settle down quietly. File away the life you once had, lead a new one instead. It's safer after what you did. It's better this way.

And twenty years will pass in a blur…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The soft clunk of the letter box swinging open and shut echoed around the hallway. From the living room, all that could be heard was a very gentle patting sound of letters falling to the carpet, the occasional scraping of page against page that came from the book that the father was reading and the tapping of knitting needles from the direction of the mother's armchair. Outside, owls hooted and the wind rustled the tree leaves.

"Was that the post, honey?" asked the mother, Katherine, from her fireside chair. "What an odd time for it!"

The father peered at his watch. 21:07. He frowned and got up. Whoever heard of a postman delivering mail at nine o clock at night? What was even odder, was that his family hardly ever got post anyway, as hardly anyone even knew that he and his daughter were alive. The only letters that were ever sent to them were bills and the occasional postcard from Katherine's family. As he reached the end of the hallway, his heart seemed to fail him. A single letter with a deep, scarlet seal lay on the welcome rug. He simply couldn't believe it. His pounding heart was now beating so loudly he was sure that it would wake the whole street. Turning the letter over in his hands, it felt as though every nightmare he'd had in the last twenty years had come true. The front of the letter read:

 _Miss M. Weasley_

 _17 Foxclove Avenue, Little Hadham_

 _Hertfordshire_

He fell against the wall breathing quickly and shaking his head in disbelief. He was convinced he was done with magic, that he'd never have to place even one foot back on that platform. That he'd never had to walk down that alley and pass the old shop. His shop.

In fact, it was the first time in about two decades, he had even thought about the magical life he'd left behind! He had never considered for even one moment that his daughter would be going to Hogwarts. But it seemed that in six weeks time, he would be seeing his beloved Molly onto the Hogwarts Express with her owl, wand and school books. He'd have to explain everything to Kat. Lovely Kat who he'd lied to for 15 long years. What kind of a husband was he? Working in an office every single day just so he wouldn't have to face ever even touching his dust covered wand. With a pang of pain, he remembered the joke shop he ran with… his brother. He was regretting his choice to stay hidden now. He was only realising what a mistake it had been to never tell his family that he'd survived. And what hurt him more was that all those years ago, he was prepared to accept that he'd never pull a prank with his twin again. What had been wrong with him?

He leaned against the doorframe to the living room clutching the letter in his clammy hand. His wife looked up and smiled but when her eyes fell upon his pale, sweaty face, she put her knitting aside and stood up, concern filling her face. The family's golden Labrador puppy, Willow, who had been dozing on the rug next to the blazing fire, lifted her head a little to watch.

Fred Weasley didn't need to open the letter to know what it said. He knew that seal. He recognised the long handwriting and dark emerald ink belonging to Professor Minerva McGonagall. He thrust out his trembling hand in which the Hogwarts letter was grasped and held it out to Kat. Without breaking eye contact with her husband, she took the letter and slid it open. Her bright blue eyes lowered to skid over the words and when she glanced up at Fred, the smile returned to her face.

"But I don't understand! Fred, this is great! It's… it's unreal, I almost can't believe it's true!"

"I wish it weren't."

"But why?" Kat asked, looking up. "Molly will be thrilled! She never wanted to go to that new school but this, this 'Hogwarts' sounds amazing! She'll enjoy this so much better than the other one."

Fred took a deep breath in, "Kat, do you remember all of those murders and disappearances that happened twenty years ago?"

"The ones you said your family died in?"

Fred nodded, "Well you see, that's not exactly true. I'm the one who died."

Fred's wife laughed and sighed, clearly convinced he was joking.

"Really, Kat, I'm telling the truth. My entire family think I'm dead."

Kat fell silent, turning the story over in her mind. After a few moments, Fred's solemn expression seemed to convince her and she whispered, "But why?"

So, with great regret, Fred explained everything. From his magical home, the Burrow, to the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Why have you never told them that you're alive? Your brothers, your parents?"

"Because I don't know if they survived the war. I got badly injured in an explosion so the next thing I knew, I was lying in a coffin with no idea where I was. I didn't want to think about the battle so decided to shut myself off from magic. I tried to find my way to the Burrow but when I got back, no one was there!"

"They think you're dead and you don't want to tell them otherwise!" Kat exclaimed.

"I was ashamed!" Fred cried, "I didn't want to admit how I survived and I still don't. I'm not saying it was a good idea; I should be dead right now but I'm not because I-" he stopped abruptly, unable to say any more.

"What? What did you do Freddie?" The concern in Kat's voice was rising but Fred knew he couldn't say even one more word. He hadn't thought about it for years and was not in any hurry to bring it up again.

He looked at his watch and quickly said, "It's late, Kat, we'd better get upstairs. Look, we'll talk to Molly tomorrow, there's no point waking her now. I promise I'll explain more in the morning."

Regretfully, Kat headed towards the door, Fred following close behind her.

"'Night, Willow," he muttered as the light flickered off.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fred's dreams were littered with memories from that horrible day. The 2nd May 1998. The day he had died. Screams and wails of grief engulfed him and his heart was constricted by the thoughts of Lupin. Of Tonks. Two of the many bodies he had seen when he came around in that field. But one thing haunted him the most. One horrible, evil face. Pale and wrinkled. "Tell me everything you know about the Order of the Phoenix and its plans and you can be sure that all of your blood-traitor family will survive this war with nothing more than a broken bone. If you don't, I will kill you right now and you'll never live to see your pathetic parents or your beloved twin brother," the voice had sneered.

And Fred had agreed.

He should have said no. He should have let himself be killed rather than betray his family and friends. But Fred thought about his mother. His lovely mother who did everything for her children and always put them first. And his dad who worked long hours at the Ministry of Magic for very little pay, just to keep his family alive. And George. His brother who no one had ever thought would be seen without his twin. None of his family deserved to die when he had the chance to save them.

Fred had agreed and he still regretted it.

When he woke with a start, Fred was surprised to feel tears resting on his cheek. He knew that taking Molly to Platform 9 ¾ would be near impossible without being seen by someone. Surely his old friends would have children who were now attending Hogwarts. He couldn't even pretend to be George; they probably didn't look so similar now.

He rolled over and peered through bleary eyes at his clock. 06:30. Time to get up. Swinging his legs out of bed he quickly and quietly changed into his work clothes- a maroon suit and matching tie. In a failed attempt to flatten down his mop of ginger hair, he remembered how Ron's hair never used to stay down for one moment either. Sniffling as a fresh stream of tears began to cascade down his face, he turned around so he was facing his bedside cabinet. Slowly, he walked over and pulled out the top drawer. He sat on the bed and held his wand carefully in his hand. Half-heartedly, he waved it and muttered quietly, " _Expecto Patronum"_ It wasn't hard to choose a happy memory. He thought of his family and his best mate, Lee Jordan. He thought of the joke shop and of Hogwarts. Immediately, a silver, speckled Hyena leapt from the tip of his wand and danced around gracefully. Sparkling light illuminated the room as the animal ran from wall to wall, ears pricked up.

"It's beautiful," said a soft voice behind him.

Fred whipped his head around and the patronus vanished in an explosion of shooting stars.

"You're awake!" Fred exclaimed, hurrying to place his wand back in his drawer.

"I heard you get up, you were crying. What's wrong?" Kat said gently.

Although the tears had long since dried from Fred's face, and replied quickly, "I wasn't crying. I have a cold." And just to prove his point, he pulled off a rather unconvincing cough.

"You know I can tell you're lying, Fred. I've always been able to tell when you're lying."

After a few moments, Fred sighed and explained, "I miss them. All of them," he paused and fought back a fresh wave of tears which were threatening fall, "I want more than anything to see them again but, I can't. Not after what I did. Not after I betrayed them like that."

"Honey, I'm sure whatever you did isn't as bad as you think it is. I wish you'd just tell me."

"No. No, trust me, you don't want to know. Now, I need to go, otherwise I'll be late."

Once downstairs, Fred opened the back door to the garden and let Willow out into the garden. He flicked on the kettle and pressed some bread down into the toaster. He sat down at the table, waiting for his breakfast to warm and for the first time since he moved in with Kat, he realised how unlike the Burrow his new house was, it was strange how much he was suddenly noticing. While the Burrow was messy and crammed full of magical objects and wonderful people, number 17, Foxclove Avenue was tidy and empty with only three people and a dog to fill it. The garden was not infested with gnomes and their house was in the middle of the city, surrounded by Muggles. Fred looked up at the clock, wondering if he'd have time to explain about the wonders of Hogwarts and magic before work when a sudden thought struck him. 'I suppose I could-'

"No, absolutely not," Fred said aloud, interrupting himself. He promised he'd never apparate ever again. He'd never pick up a wand or even utter the word ' _expelliarmus_ '.

But he'd already broken one of his rules- he produced his patronus, so surely, he can just apparate to work. Just once. "No!" he said loudly again and realised he was still staring at the clock. He wondered what his golden spoon would be pointing at in the Burrow. What it had been pointing at for the last 20 years. Perhaps, lost or mortal peril, or maybe his spoon had vanished completely.

Fred hadn't noticed that his breakfast was ready until Molly's soft voice broke the silence. "Do you want me to bring your toast over, dad?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes please, sweetheart, that would be fab," Fred made an attempt at a false smile for his daughter as she brought him over his now cold breakfast and the butter.

Why had he never appreciated just how much his beautiful daughter looked like her mother? She had very long, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. When she smiled, it brightened up the room and soon, Fred realised that the grin he'd enforced himself to put on merely seconds ago, had transformed into a perfectly natural one. Molly was thin, athletic, tall and, to Fred, she was perfect. Although she was only 11, Molly was outstandingly clever and kind. And even though Fred had never seen anything of himself in his daughter before, he suddenly noticed her streaks of ginger hair, mixed in with the blonde. A grin broke out on his face as he imagined his daughter sitting in classes at Hogwarts, waving her hand in the air to answer a question. With a pang of pain, Fred thought of Hermione Granger, best friend to his youngest brother Ron and how Ron used to complain about how much of a know-it-all she was.

Why were there so many things he hadn't thought about and why had it taken twenty years for him to notice them? Had he been trying _that_ hard to block out what he'd left behind?

"What are you having for breakfast, Mol?" Fred asked, watching his daughter play with Willow and munching on his toast.

"Oh, I'll have something a bit later, it's too early at the minute," she replied, eyes glimmering in the early morning sun.

"Do you have any plans for today? Going anywhere nice with mum?"

"I'm not sure. I'll need to take Willow for a walk, obviously."

Fred's once natural smile quickly transformed into a fake one again. He now regretted that he had got a job that worked through school holidays, when both his wife- a teacher- and his daughter would be at home enjoying the summer. That meant that once Molly had moved to Hogwarts, he'd barely ever see her, not that he saw much of her anyway. He wished he could be at home when his only child was too, to hear of her exciting adventures in Hogwarts castle. He promised himself that, if possible, he'd find a new job, perhaps a teacher like Kat, so he could see more of his family. So he could care for them properly and be the father he really wanted to be.

It was as Fred was tying his shoes when Kat emerged in the doorway.

"Molly, honey. Do you want to come in for a moment? Your father and I want to ask you something."

Leaving Willow chasing a tennis ball around the garden as though it were a squirrel, Molly came in and sat opposite Fred at the table.

"A letter came last night from a headmistress of the school your dad went to when he was your age. She wants to know if you'd like to attend her school in September."

"I suppose it'll be better than the one we have lined up at the moment," Molly replied, her face falling slightly.

"Trust me, it's better than any school you could apply for," Fred assured her.

"So, why didn't you put me forward for that school when we had to choose one last year?"

"Because this is a special school and you have to be invited to it," Fred explained.

"Special? What do you mean, special?" Molly asked.

"Hogwarts isn't a normal school where you learn maths and science, Mol, Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards. It's a school for magic."

Fred was astounded at how easily his daughter believed his explanation. Much like how her mother had reacted the previous night when he had first handed her the letter, Molly had a mixed look of excitement and amazement at her father's words.

"You believe us?"

"Of course I do. You wouldn't lie to me about this."

Finding himself, once again smiling at his daughter, Fred continued, "I went there when I was a boy. All my family are wizards but your mum and her family, they're what the wizarding world call 'Muggles' which just means someone who has none magical blood," he glanced at Kat awkwardly and said, "Hogwarts is an amazing school, you'll love it, I promise."

"Why have we never met your family? How come you've never told us that you're a wizard?"

"They all think I'm dead. My parents, my brothers and my sister all think they'll never see me again. I promise I'll explain so much more about the magic when I get home, but my family doesn't matter right now."

Perhaps it was because magic was on his mind, but as Fred walked to work, he noticed a surprising number of people wearing long robes. He knew that, even now, he couldn't explain to his family how he'd survived, so he wanted nothing more but to crawl into a hole and hide when his own father turned the corner, talking extremely quickly to a short man next to him. As quickly as he could, Fred turned away from his dad and crossed the street, pulling his hood over his hair as he did so. Knowing that the main giveaway to his identity would be similarities to George, Fred decided to hunch up his shoulders, cover his bright ginger hair and walk with a certain sway which he didn't usually keep.

For a few minutes, Fred slouched along in front of his father before remembering that the entrance to the Ministry, where Arthur Weasley worked, was only a few buildings away from the offices where Fred's job was. But then, just to make everything so much worse, a strong gust of wind blew back his hood so his ginger hair was visible to everyone. Panicking, Fred fumbled around to retrieve it but in doing so, he'd dropped his false posture. The damage had been done too quickly.

"-are you quite sure, though? There's absolutely noth- George?" His father's voice bounced around in Fred's brain, winding its way through a labyrinth of worried thoughts.

He ignored his father but picked up the pace of his walking.

"George?" Arthur's hand fell upon Fred's arm and forced him to turn. "George, what're you-"

Immediately, Fred put on the first accent he could think of- Irish- and replied, "What? Who are you? My name is not George! I'm, err, Francis!"

"Oh... I'm terribly… I'm terribly sorry, sir… you just look a lot like someone I know… erm… knew."

Fred pulled himself away from his father's grip and hurried off, leaving his dad rooted to the spot in shock.

For the rest of the day, Fred worried about his dad. He'd been recognised. He knew he'd never get away with it, surely his father would recognise his own son. But maybe, just maybe, Arthur Weasley genuinely thought he'd met Francis from Ireland. Hopefully, Fred would never know.

When it came to 4 o clock, Fred left work successfully having spilt two cups of coffee over his computer, typed an email to a client and forgotten to send it so typed it out again, and accidently eaten his colleague's sandwich as well as his own.

He dragged his feet behind him as he traipsed home but when he remembered that the next day, Saturday, was his day off, Fred held his head a little higher.

The minute he stepped through the front door, he was greeted a very excited Molly and an equally enthusiastic Willow. Laughing, Fred headed to the living room where he collapsed on the settee. Straight away, Molly bombarded him with questions about magic. "It says on the ticket that the train comes to Platform 9 ¾, how is that possible? Where's Diagon Alley, how do we get there? Where is Hogwarts? What lessons do you have?"

"Woah! Calm down!" Fred shouted over her. "You'll learn all about Diagon Alley when we go there and the same goes for Hogwarts, it's no fun if I tell you everything about it, there'll be no surprises. As for getting to the platform, well, all you have to do is step through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10," he explained casually.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Fred had great fun teasing Molly about the wizarding world, telling her certain parts of little facts about Hogwarts but leaving out the more important ones.

"I was a Gryffindor, I expect you will be too, all my family were but you'd fit right into any of the houses."

After a little while, Kat called them to dinner so the two of them got up and made their way to the kitchen. As soon as Molly was sitting behind her lasagne, she asked, "When can we go to Diagon Alley?"

Smiling, her father replied, "We're only on the second day of the summer holidays and you want to go school shopping?"

"I don't necessarily want to buy my equipment yet, but I really want to see it! It sounds amazing!"

"Ok, how about this?" Fred proposed, "I'll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow, your mum can come too if she wants, and we can buy you a few of your school books, an owl and a broomstick if you want one. And then, next week when I'm next off, I'll take you out into the countryside to practise riding."

"An owl and a broomstick?"

"Well, witches and wizards use owls to send letters and parcels to each other, so when you're at school, you can keep in touch with your parents."

"Wow!"

"And the broomstick is for playing Quidditch which is possibly the best sport in the universe."

"How do you play?"

"I'll tell you that when you have a broomstick. We can practise very week until you go to school in September. Luckily, the first of September is a Saturday so we'll both be able to take you to the station."

"Mum, are you coming to Diagon Alley tomorrow? Please come, it'll be so much more fun with you!"

"Of course I'll come," Kat smiled.

For a while, the three of them ate in silence, with only the occasional clash of fork against plate until finally, Kat asked, "What if you're recognised? Surely you'll bump into at least one person you knew and you said you can't pass off as being George anymore."

"I'm not sure, but even if I do meet an old friend or family member, it won't be the first time." He explained all about meeting his father on the way to work, and how he pretended to be and Irish man named Francis. "So if I see someone, I suppose we'll just have to deal with them if it happens," Fred concluded.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence and after dinner, when Molly had gone upstairs to get ready for bed, Fred turned to Kat. "I don't mind risking meeting anyone who might know me if it means Molly can go to Diagon Alley. You saw how excited she was and I know she deserves to go."

Without speaking, Kat nodded and left the kitchen. After a few moments, Fred headed upstairs to kiss goodnight to Molly. However, before he entered her room, he went into his own and opened the bedside cabinet as he'd done that morning. From it, he took his wand and an old photo. He then slid open his wardrobe and removed his old broomstick from behind a heap of crumpled clothes. It was only after this that he walked through to Molly's room, trying to keep hold off all his old possessions. She put her book down when her father came into the room and looked curiously at the peculiar objects that he was holding.

"I want to show you these," Fred said as he closed the door and sat on the end of her bed.

"What are they?" Molly asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Well, that's what I came to tell you. This," he said, "was…is my wand. I got this when I was 11."

"Will you show me?" Molly asked excitedly. "Show me some magic?"

Fred smiled forcefully and held up his wand to produce his beautiful, silvery patronus as he had done that morning. Molly giggled with delight as she watched the hyena bounce around the room.

"It's so pretty!" she exclaimed happily.

"That's called a patronus, but it's a complex piece of magic, you'll have to wait a good few years to be able to do it," Fred explained as the hyena exploded with a gentle _poof_.

He placed his wand back on the bed sheet and picked up his broom. "This is my Cleansweep Five. It's the broomstick I rode when I played as Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. It's not amazing, but it's mine and I love it."

"What's a Beater?"

"I'll tell you that when you have a broom yourself." He lowered his voice, "and I promise, it'll be better than this one."

Molly giggled and picked up the photo that was lying next to her. "Who're all these people?" she asked, indicating at it.

"This photo was taken in Egypt when my family went there on holiday. I was about fifteen. We all visited, all nine of us." He pointed at each of his siblings and parents as he named them. "That's me and that's George on the other side, I think. Bill and Charlie, Ron, Ginny and Percy. And these are my parents."

"What are they called?"

"My dad's called Arthur and my mum... she's called Molly," he smiled at her.

"Was I… was I named after her?"

Fred raised his eyebrows cheekily at the amazed and delighted look on his daughter's face. He got up and, leaving the photo on Molly's bed, he picked up his wand and Cleansweep Five and made his way to the door.

"Dad." Fred stopped, his hand resting on the handle, "your family- my family- they look so lovely. So happy and kind. Surely, they would forgive you. Surely there's nothing you can do that could upset your parents, your twin so much that they'd hate you. Families don't know hate within them. You said yourself that your brother, Percy, saw sense. I'm sure that if you told them what you did, no matter how bad, they'd see sense. Just like Percy did. They're your family, dad. Families are there to forgive each other. They have to."

There was silence between them for a few minutes. Then finally Fred sniffed, "You… you don't understand."

"I know I don't. But I _know_ that families love each other-"

"Molly, sweetheart-"

"No, dad. You know it just as much as I do. Your mum and your dad will forgive you when you explain. They have to."

"Sweetie, I'm not going to explain to them."

"But you must!"

"Molly-"

"When Percy left, when he went off to join the Ministry, instead of you, did your family forget him? Did you give up on him?"

After a few more moments silence Fred replied shakily and quietly, "No. Never. Go to sleep."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning, Fred woke with a start. His dreams had once again been scattered with the occasional memory of war but right before he'd woken, only one picture was showing in his mind: his family in Egypt. How he wished that everything was just as perfect as that now.

He got up, dressed and, as he had done the previous day, made a rather pathetic attempt to flatten his hair. He was both excited for and dreading his promised visit to Diagon Alley. He wondered how much had changed, whether so many of the shops he knew and loved were still there.

But having to explain what he did- that massive act of betrayal. Was it really worth the risk? If he hadn't made the deal, if he hadn't walked right into a trap, would his family have survived? But even after everything Molly had told him the night before, after all her effort, Fred still couldn't bare the idea of explaining what'd happened.

When everyone had woken and eaten breakfast, they headed out into the wild, winding streets of London. Fred had made sure that he had plenty of Muggle money in his wallet just in case he no longer had access to his and George's Gringotts Vault. He also had the key to said vault and his wand, so he could access Diagon Alley.

After about fifteen minutes of pushing their way through the crammed streets, the three of them finally reached scruffy a pub named 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

"That's funny, I've never noticed this pub before!" Kat exclaimed.

"Neither have I!" said Molly.

"That's because you weren't looking for it," replied Fred as the entered the pub.

It looked just how Fred had remembered. Behind the bar stood the barman, Tom, hunched over the butterbeer pump, filling a glass. When Fred entered, he glanced up.

"Mornin'," he mumbled and went back to the drink.

"Follow me," Fred said quietly as he began to find his way through the tables and towards the back door.

"Wait," Tom said suddenly.

Fred stopped so unexpectedly that Molly and Kat both walked into him. He heard a shuffling sound which he knew must mean that the barman was waddling towards them. He sealed his eyes shut. A cold, heavy hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. There was an awkward silence in which Fred was determined not to make eye-contact with the old man.

"They told me you were dead," he mumbled.

Fred swallowed and winced. But he soon found himself wrapped in perhaps the most uncomfortable hug he'd ever experienced.

"Erm… I'm sorry I think you've mistaken me for someone else," he said hurriedly in his unconvincing Irish accent. "I've never met you before in my life," he unwrapped himself from Tom's grip and backed towards the door, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go, lots of shopping to do." He turned to Molly and Kat and the three of them sped through the door, leaving Tom the barman more than extremely confused.

They stood in the little yard and Fred removed his wand. He pointed it at himself and quickly performed a charm so that his hair turned dark brown ad he grew a rather lengthy beard. He didn't want to risk too many people recognising him

"I'm not risking it anymore. How do I look?"

"Stupid," replied Molly, giggling.

"Do I look like me, though?" he demanded.

"Only if you look really closely," Kat said seriously.

Fred nodded, "It'll have to do," and he raised his wand once more. However, this time, instead of pointing it at himself, he tapped a certain brick in the wall- three up and two across above the rubbish bin. Immediately, the wall began to fold in on itself to reveal Diagon Alley which was concealed behind. Next to him, Kat let out a small gasp of sheer amazement and Molly merely muttered, "Wow!"

Just like the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley was exactly how Fred recalled it to be. The same colourful shops were lining the streets and the familiar buzz of excitement and joy filled the air. It was crammed with witches and wizards, none of which- thankfully- Fred recognised. The wall behind them closed and they joined the crowd of people who were mingling around the shops.

It took a while to get down the street as Molly wanted to stop and look in every shop window that they passed.

"It's no good going in now," Fred kept telling her, "We don't have any money yet!"

Finally, they reached Gringotts, the wizarding bank. As they climbed up the marble steps, Fred felt around in his pocket for the key. Molly reached the top of the stairs first and pushed open the huge doors to reveal the inside of the bank. A sparkling gold chandelier hung from the detailed, patterned ceiling. Two long rows of tall desks lined each side of the long hallway and the marble floor had been scrubbed so vigorously, that Fred could see his reflection in it.

"I think you two should stay here and I'll-" he stopped, "What's wrong, Mol?" he asked Molly who was staring in awe at the strange creatures who sat behind desks, writing furiously.

"Wha... what are they?" she asked.

Fred laughed, "Don't worry, they're only goblins. You'll meet far scarier creatures than these guys. Goblins are grumpy- don't like humans much- but they're harmless." Having reassured Molly about the goblins, Fred continued, "If you two stay here I'll go and ask about the money. I have the key so hopefully, they'll let me in."

Both Kat and Molly nodded, so Fred walked toward the nearest goblin and presented the key to him. "I need to collect some money from vault 467, please," he said while the goblin behind the desk picked up the key and examined it closely.

"Fair enough, please follow me," replied the goblin sharply.

 _'That was easy,'_ Fred thought as he beckoned for Kat and Molly to join him in following the goblin through a small wooden door behind him.

The family had to duck to pass through the doorway, but once they had come out the other side, they stood up straight gazing around the cold, stone around them. The cave was a labyrinth. There were passages that split off in every direction- up, down, left, right and even upside down! A long track ran through the middle of the cove and a wagon, which they all hopped into, appeared in front of them. It whizzed off the moment Kat had stepped into it, steered by the goblin. A chilly breeze whipped the back of Fred's neck, nipping at every patch of bare skin it could find. The wagon zoomed along the track, turning corners and flipping over occasionally, until finally it came to a stop outside a vault. Fred got out from the cart, signalling for Molly and Kat, to stay where they were.

He approached the vault door where he waited for the goblin to hobble over. Fred handed him the key, the goblin opened up the bank door and Fred stepped inside. Completely amazed at just how much money there actually was, Fred grabbed a few handfuls of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and stuffed them into his money bag before exiting the room.

After another thrilling ride back to the main hall of Gringotts, Fred thanked the goblin and left the beautiful bank, Molly skipping beside him and Kat stumbling along queasily. They left the building and were greeted by a refreshing breeze in the fresh air. Kat sighed and stood up straight, "That's better," she sighed happily.

The three of them made their way back down the steps, but just as they'd reached the bottom, and to Fred's utter dismay, he heard an extremely familiar voice from behind him.

"I'm telling you, Harry, I recognised that man. I know him from somewhere!"

"Don't be so ridiculous, Ginny. He's just an ordinary wizard out shopping with his family!" a man's voice retorted.

"Mum, dad!" came a whining little voice and for a moment, Fred thought it was Molly until he looked at his own, very confused daughter. Without waiting to hear what the little girl wanted from her parents and pulling Kat and Molly with him, Fred pushed through crowds of bustling witches and wizards and sped toward the nearest shop- Flourish and Blotts, the book shop.

As they ran through the door, Fred moved Kat in front of him and then lots of things happened very quickly.

As Fred rushed to close the door behind him, Kat accidently ran into a short woman with ginger, curly hair who was just leaving the shop. Molly ran straight into her mother and grunted when she fell back with such force, she hit the hard, wooden floor.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" fussed Kat.

"It's quite alright dear, not to worry," the woman replied and Fred froze in horror. He knew that voice very well.

"Let me help you with that," Kat said kindly, indicating to the books she had knocked out of the woman's hand in the collision.

"No one bother helping me then," Molly said as she picked herself up and brushed her jeans down.

"Thank you very much, dear," said the woman gratefully as Kat picked up her books and handed them back to her.

Once again faking an Irish accent, Fred turned to Kat and said, "Right then, shall we find these books we need?"

Without making eye contact with his mother, he grabbed his daughter by the hand and drove her towards the nearest shelf.

"Excuse me?" said the sweet voice of Molly Weasley behind him. Fred cursed under his breath and turned back as enthusiastically as he could.

"Yes?"

"Do I, do I know you?" his mother asked.

It pained Fred so much to reply with a simple, "No. No, I don't think so."

Mrs. Weasley took a step towards him, staring suspiciously into his guilty eyes.

Kat broke an extremely uneasy moment between mother and son by saying suddenly, "Where on Earth has Molly gone off to?"

Fred winced. His wife had just called his daughter by the name of his mother- or had she just called his mother the name of his daughter? Either way, Mrs. Weasley snapped her head to look at Kat and Fred looked down to see that Molly had indeed vanished.

"I'm sorry?" she said.

"My daughter, Molly. She's wandered off somewhere."

"Oh," Fred's mum replied. "Don't worry, dear." She turned back to Fred, "A mother always finds her child."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _A mother always finds her child._

When Kat, Molly and Fred left Flourish and Blotts half an hour later with bags full of school books for Molly, those words were still bouncing around in Fred's brain.

 _A mother_ always _finds her child._

 _Mother._

 _Child._

 _Always._

The words ran around inside him crazily.

 _Mother._

 _Child._

His heart beat violently against his chest.

 _Mother._

They wound their way across the street to the shop opposite- Ollivander's. Hopefully, Garrick Ollivander's old age would mean that Fred wouldn't be recognised, even with the wandmaker's freakishly good memory.

The rusty bell above the door tinkled as they entered. The dark room was packed full of different coloured, long boxes. Two men bent over an old black till. One of them, much older than the other, looked up at them and smiled weakly at them. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet as he hobbled toward them. "Welcome to my wand shop," he croaked mysteriously. "I am Mr. Ollivander and this is my assistant Stewart Dinnington."

Stewart Dinnington waved half-heartedly from the other side of the room and Fred smiled in return. "Are you looking for a wand, my dear?" Ollivander asked Molly kindly.

"Yes, please."

Ollivander smiled warmly at her and shuffled to the back of the dusty shop towards a shelf of wands. "Now then, let's see," he said thoughtfully before sliding a wand box from the middle shelf. He opened the box and peered at the wand. "Eleven and a half inches, pine wood, unicorn hair core," he handed her the wand.

"What do I do?" she asked, looking as the wand and holding it away from her as if it might suddenly attack her. Before she could do anything, however, Mr. Ollivander took the wand from her and placed it back in its velvet lined box, muttering and shaking his head.

"Definitely not, no. Erm, Stewart, would you mind climbing up to get that wand for me? The one right on the top shelf."

"Are… are you sure, sir?" Stewart's voice was high pitched and squeaky, similar to a mouse's. As he stepped out from behind the desk and into the sunlight, Fred could see that his appearance wasn't too much different to that of a mouse's either. He was short and skinny with stubble on his chin and long, light brown hair.

"Quite sure, Stewart. Quickly please, I'm sure these lovely people have other places to be."

"Yes, sir," Stewart hurried to collect a ladder from behind the counter and carry it over to where Mr. Ollivander was standing, pointing. "You're sure you want… that one."

"Yes, Stewart. I'm sure," Ollivander replied, but for some reason, he wasn't looking at either Molly or his assistant- he was staring right at Fred with his arm stretched out behind him so Stewart could place the wand in it. Stewart handed Ollivander the box quickly and put the step ladder away in the corner.

"Thank you, Stewart," the wandmaker said as he opened the box and removed the wand. For a while, he just stood staring at it until finally, he said so quietly, Fred almost thought he was speaking to himself. "Now this, this is a very odd wand," he raised his eyes to once again look at Fred. "This wand is the only wand in the world made from the wood of a silver birch tree."

Fred gasped and met Ollivander's gaze, eyes snapping upwards.

"You see this wand is most peculiar in two ways. Wands have never successfully been made by any wizard from silver birch. And, as I'm sure you know, the three different main wand cores are, unicorn hair, dragon heartstring and phoenix _tail_ feathers, there are, of course, a few more. This wand's core, however, is phoenix feather, but did not come from the tail of the bird. I believe it came from the wing. The idea for this wand was thought of by two young wizards about twenty years ago. I believe they attempted to make the wand while visiting their brother's house which happened to have a silver birch tree growing outside it."

Fred was beginning to get extremely uncomfortable. Sweat clammed the back of his neck, sticking to it like glue.

"They put a phoenix's tail feather in it, one they had collected from their school when they were younger. The two young men then decided that the wand would no longer be sufficient for what they wanted to do so left it with their brother where it stayed until I was fortunate enough to visit the house myself and came across the wand. Being the skilled wandmaker that I am, I sensed the power in the peculiar wand and asked my host where he had purchased it."

Fred was breathing quickly and was now rather hot, although this went unnoticed by the rest of his company.

"Not knowing what his younger brothers had done, my host told me quite honestly that he had no idea where it had come from. It was a few days later when I met the brothers who had created this special wand myself, that I discovered who had made it. They recognised it you see, I was holding it when I saw them. Still believing that it was useless, the brothers kindly told me I could keep it. Since then, I have discovered it is a very strong, powerful yet unusual wand."

"So, why are you giving it to me?" Molly asked after a few minutes. "I've never even touched a wand before today!"

"I sense that _you_ are a very strong, powerful, yet unusual witch."

He held the wand out to her. It really was beautiful. It was bright silver and the gnarls in the wood had magically formed together to make stunning floral patterns. Molly gently swished it at the flower vase. The wild daisies contained in it began to sway in a non-existent wind and it rose from the counter, glowing silver. The flowers bloomed more and more until they were a truly beautiful bouquet of wild, colourful flowers.

"I think, my dear, that your wand has found you," Ollivander said and Fred found himself once again, staring right into the eyes of the wand-maker.

"Are you alright, Fred, honey?"

"What, erm, yeah. Why?"

"You look a bit pale," Kat said.

"Oh, it was just a bit hot in there, that's all," Fred replied quickly and began to wind around the busy crowd towards Madame Malkin's.

"You and your mum go and get some robes in there," he said, pointing to the shop next to them. "She'll get you sorted, just tell her you're in your first year at Hogwarts," he explained. "I'll go and grab your other equipment and come and find you at the Quidditch shop across there. We'll get you a broom and finally, we'll find you an owl."

"Seems good," agreed Kat, "Gets everything done quicker."

Three-quarters of an hour later, Fred trudged down the street to the Quidditch shop. Pushing open the door and entering the room, he glanced around and, when he couldn't see Molly or Kat, he headed over to the large boxes of Quidditch balls that stood against a wall on the far side of the shop. Selecting a box which was still in relatively good condition, he heaved it over to the till- they'd need something to practice playing with. He thanked the shop keeper and placed the box in one of the bags he had hooked over his arm and then began to browse the brooms. He had only been there for a few moments before the door opened again and Molly and Kat stepped in.

"Right, these are the brooms. Bear in mind you won't be allowed to bring it to school but over the holidays, you'll be able to practise at home with me."

After some professional advice from the manager, and an extremely tough decision between a Nimbus 2012 and a Peregrine 6.2, Molly eventually decided on a broom (the Peregrine) and the three of them left the shop.

"Am I allowed to go to see the joke shop?" Molly asked, "It sounds really good."

Fred sighed, "If we go to the pet shop and get you an owl now, we might be able to go _quickly_ to the joke shop and you can have a look inside before getting some lunch somewhere in London. We have to get back for Willow."

Molly's face lit up at the mention of the joke shop, but she said nothing, knowing her father was not at all eager to go. So silently, she followed her parents to the shop, Eeylops Owl Emporium. A small bell rang above them when they entered the shabby building. The piercing, screeching sound of an owl's call burst into Fred's ears. Immediately, Molly ran towards an owl which sat in the corner quietly, huddled away in its wings. The grey feathers on its back were speckled brown and the tiny owl's head was a dark black. It was so beautiful, with bright yellow eyes and a small, chubby face and body. The front of the owl was almost striped, light grey and a rich, chestnut brown. It gave an affectionate, hooting laugh and Molly stroked its back and the shop-keeper came over.

"Now this is a lovely young Boreal owl and personally, I think it's a beautiful, caring little one. She's only thirty Galleons, very reasonable if you ask me!"

"What do you think, Mol?" Fred asked his daughter who was still lovingly stroking the owl, causing it to coo happily, "Do you like her?"

"I love her."

So, a few minutes and thirty galleons later, the three of them left Eeylops Owl Emporium with Pepper, the Boreal owl in her little cage. Fred was surprised at how quickly Molly had chosen her owl, but Molly was overjoyed; she loved her new pet so much. The shopkeeper had informed them that it was beautiful, reliable and very loyal although, at that moment, Molly couldn't see past the adorable features of it. Pepper hooted happily, her call sounding just like a little chuckle and making the owl sound as though she were constantly happy. _Just like Molly,_ Fred thought. For a while, Kat and Fred listened to Molly talk excitedly, until Fred cut in when Molly had stopped to take a breath.

"Do you still want to go to the joke shop?" Fred asked.

"Oh, yes please," Molly replied, almost guiltily.

"Right," Fred said grumpily, "But we can't stay long."

"I know, I just want to see it."

Fred didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he was desperate to see the shop too. He wanted to know how it was doing, whether he had been replaced or whether George ran it by himself. So, he led his family down the street towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He was happy to see that, from the outside, it was exactly as he remembered it- so much so, it was as if Fred had merely been gone a few days. The bright logo still hung above the equally colourful door and the windows were packed full of Skiving Snack Boxes, fake wands and so much more, even a few new items, that Fred didn't recognise. He looked at Molly and Kat, both of whose eyes were wide and excited.

Before Fred could even think about turning away and leaving, Molly had run for the front door and pushed it open. Kat and Fred chased after her and they found themselves in a sea of shoppers. There was no way Fred could get in and out of the shop without being recognised. Molly wanted to stop and look at everything they passed, picking them from the shelves, turning them over and placing them back again. Fred followed her around nervously, but he was still surprised when, about ten minutes later, he finally heard an extremely familiar voice. Although it didn't have the same joy and excitement as it used to, George's voice was otherwise exactly how Fred remembered. Not long after, Ron's voice was heard over the crowd too and then immediately, Fred's mother, Molly's shrill voice was shooting into his ears too. They seemed to be arguing about something and unfortunately, Fred knew exactly what.

"I'm telling you I saw him!" Molly said.

"Mum, you know you can't have, he died twenty years ago!" Ron retorted, "Can't this wait, George-"

"He was there! I know he was! In Flourish and Blotts with a young girl and a young woman."

"They could have been anyone," George said, and Fred winced at just how empty his twin's voice was.

"The girl was called Molly!"

"So? There are hundreds of people in the world called Molly, thousands, even!" Ron said.

"I know it was him, boys. He's alive, I know it. Remember how your father said about the man who looked remarkably like you, George, on the way to work yesterday?"

"Mum, please, can we talk about this later?" George's voice was desperate but otherwise completely dull and hollow.

Fred hadn't noticed that the rest of the shop had fallen silent, all listening intently to the argument.

"No!" Molly screeched back.

"Even if he was alive, I'm sure he would have come to see us. He would have found us," George said sadly- Fred never thought he'd see, or hear, his brother sounding so down. He had no idea where the voices were coming from until he turned around to try and usher Kat and his daughter out the shop and saw George, Ron and his mum all standing only a few metres away. Fred gasped sharply; all three of them were pale and looked extremely angry. Ron, who was still scrawny and lanky with hair untidy as ever, had his hands on his hips and was glaring at his mum. He wore the same uniform as George- red suit and tie with a white shirt and the logo printed onto the left-hand side of the jacket. But George was not anything like the twin Fred used to know. He was worryingly thin and pale, suit hanging from his weak frame and his eyes, dark and sunken. His shirt was untucked and his tie was done up incorrectly.

"Mum, I'm telling you, you only saw a man, who looks a little bit-"

"Quite a lot, actually," Molly interrupted, but Ron carried on as if he hadn't heard.

"-like him and he just happened to have a daughter called Molly. It doesn't mean anything!" Ron insisted.

"So it's a sheer coincidence that your father saw a man who also happened to look exactly like him, is it?" Molly demanded, but no reply came from Ron or George. They were both staring at something a few metres in front of them.

"Hmm?" Molly said expectantly at the lack of reply before following the eyes of her two youngest sons.

Before Fred knew it, he was being stared at by everyone in the shop. He swallowed and rubbed his face awkwardly but to his utter dismay, he felt no beard on his chin and he knew the charm must have worn off. Grabbing Molly and Kat by the hand, he sprinted from the shop. The second they were through the door, a loud commotion stirred in the shop as Ron and George tried to push through the crowd after Fred. He could hear his mother shouting, "Didn't I tell you?" as he ran and about a second later, jets of bright light zoomed past them. "Get in front of me!" Fred told Kat and Molly, "If they catch up, don't stop, keep running." He glanced back then yelled, "Duck!" as a beam of light flew over their heads.

Ron was catching up with them quickly, George wasn't far behind. They would be caught, Fred knew it. More and more beams zipped around them as Fred reached inside his own jacket for his wand. He produced a patronus as he ran, which was soon bounding after them. The stunning spells stopped flying and the rapid footsteps slowed to a halt.

"Stop a minute," Fred told Kat and Molly. "Say nothing, let me talk and if any spells come your way, dodge them as best you can."

Kat and Molly nodded as Fred slowly turned around to face his brothers.

His patronus danced around the alley. He was originally planning to just show the hyena as a way of letting Ron and George he was alive, but when the patronus ran along-side him, instead of staying with his brothers, Fred knew he had to face them.

"Fancy seeing you here," Fred said croakily, his heart was pounding violently in his chest as if it wanted to burst out of him and run to George. Fred couldn't deny that that was what he wanted to do. The hyena stepped up to George and sat at his feet affectionately. George raised his own wand and muttered, _"Expecto Patronum"_ and his own patronus, a coyote, burst from the tip of his wand. The two wild dogs ran around, playing with each other before sitting back down at George's feet.

"That's the first time I've been able to make one in twenty years," George said, grinning at his twin. "How did you do it, Fred? What happened to you?"

"I could ask you the same. You look awful!" Fred exclaimed.

"Thanks a lot. To be fair, though, mate, you've looked better," George smiled, despite the tears dripping rapidly down his cheek. He didn't seem to know what to do. His legs shook as though they wanted to run forward to Fred, but his face was full of reluctance. "Where've you been?"

But Fred didn't have time to reply as a few seconds later, six more people were pushing through the already massive crowd. Fred's sister, Ginny, Harry Potter, Mrs. Weasley and three children Fred didn't know were all making their way through towards them.

"Mum said that-" Ginny began, but then her eyes fell on Fred. "Oh my god!"

The hyena got up and padded towards Ginny who'd stumbled backwards in shock. She looked from the patronus to Fred and back again. "It really is you!"

Fred laughed awkwardly, "Oh yeah. So it is, weird that. But we have to go, so… Bye!" and he took off, Molly and Kat following close behind.

They weren't followed.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Fred, Kat and Molly sat at the kitchen table in silence. They had run all the way home, pushing past shoppers and dodging around cars until they burst through their front door and collapsed around the table.

"They'll all be looking for me now. I'll probably leave a bit earlier for work now and… oh, Molly, I'm so sorry. I ruined your first trip to Diagon Alley!" Fred fussed, his head buried in his hands.

"Diagon Alley isn't going anywhere and frankly, I thought it was amazing! It makes everything seem so much more… real and it would have been so much more boring if you'd just been you. It was like a little adventure!"

Fred smiled, he appreciated his daughter's kindness. "Well, it wasn't exactly the perfect family reunion, was it?" he joked to loosen the tension as he raised he head and rubbed his eyes. "I guess I'll have to explain to them now they know I'm alive."

Kat rose to start making some lunch, leaving Molly and Fred to talk.

"I think I'll write them a letter as they don't know where I am. I'll tell them to come earlier to the barrier in September. It'll be quiet on the platform and I'll talk to them then. It'll take forever to explain in a letter."

"Seems like a good idea," Molly agreed.

"Would you mind if I borrowed Pepper?" Fred asked her.

"Course you can! I'd love to see how owl post works!"

"I'll write it after lunch and show you how it works."

After lunch Fred went through to the living room and curled up in the armchair next to the window. With the sun beating down on his back, he began to write:

 _Dear George, Mum, Dad, Ron, Ginny, Bill, Percy and Charlie,_

 _I owe you an explanation, and a good one. It's too much to write in a letter but if you meet me early at King's Cross on the 1_ _st_ _of September, I promise I'll explain everything and I promise I'll at least try to be sensible. You might hate me for it but you deserve the truth. There's so much I've wanted to say to you all for so long._

 _Please look after Pepper, she's new and this is her first flight but she's very friendly._

 _Hope everyone is well,_

 _Love, Fred._

 _P.S. George, please eat something; if you were any paler, McGonagall could hire you as the new Gryffindor ghost._

"Right, Molly!" he called upstairs and soon footsteps were thundering down the stairs and Molly entered the room, Pepper, who hooted excitedly, balanced on her arm.

Fred sealed the letter in an envelope and wrote ' _The Burrow'_ on the front before handing it to Molly so she could tie it to Pepper's leg.

"Now, you tell her where to go," Fred told Molly simply.

"Oh, right." She swallowed and looked to her owl who hooted excitedly, "Take this letter to the Burrow, Pepper. You can stay there for a few days if you'd like but come back as soon as you can. They'll look after you."

Pepper chirped to show she understood and then took off through the open window.

"Is it really as easy as that?" Molly asked and Fred nodded, "And she understood?"

"Yep." Fred winked and left the room, leaving Molly to stare out the window after her new owl.

It was on the Thursday evening of the next week when Pepper returned to Foxclove Avenue, with an envelope strapped to her leg.

Fred was sitting in the living room, watching the news on the TV when Molly came running down the stairs with Pepper on her arm.

"It's for you dad. The letter. It's addressed to you," Molly announced as she untied the note.

The envelope was felt extremely thick and heavy and when Fred opened it, he discovered that there were, in fact, four letters all in the one envelope. He took the first out that it was from his mum and dad.

 _Dear Fred,_

 _We are so amazingly happy that you're alive, we almost can't believe it. Of course, we will meet you at King's Cross in September, and you certainly will have to explain yourself very well. Everyone is staying with us so don't bother sending a letter to Shell Cottage. It's very cramped! We have so many questions. There's so much we want to tell you and so much we want to know._

 _See you very soon, Mum, Dad, Percy, Bill, and Charlie._

The ink on the letter was smudged and slightly wobbly. Tear marks cluttered the page. Fred chuckled and shook his head as he took out the second letter which he soon discovered was from Ginny and Harry.

 _To Fred. We're all very glad you're alive but we can't believe that you didn't come and find us! For twenty years, we've got on with our lives without you- do you have any idea what it's been like? George hasn't told one joke or pulled one prank since you_ died _and it's been so miserable, getting him to eat every day's been hard enough! We can't believe you! It's only thanks to Ron that_ your _shop managed to stay in business; you better have a very, very good explanation for this. From Ginny, Harry, James, Albus and Lily._

Fred was no longer looking forward to seeing his sister- she was extremely good with hexes and curses and seemed very upset. He shifted uncomfortably, he used to enjoy seeing his younger sister beat people up but never thought it would be him she'd be attacking. And now, there were three mini-Ginnys running about as well! Fred didn't think his next meeting with his sister would be all that enjoyable. He swiftly put the letter aside and pulled out the next one.

 _To Fred. I don't really know what to say but mum and Hermione said I should write back so, yeah._

Fred laughed. Ron really was useless.

 _It took so long getting used to you not being around. It was especially hard for George, I'd never seen him so upset before, but I got used to him crying every night after a few weeks. It was really tough, we all had to look after George and ourselves. I think mostly, we're pleased you're ok but Ginny is really annoyed and mum's crying almost as much as George used to. We'll see you soon, love Ron, Hermione, Rose and Hugo._

There were mini-Rons too? Or would they just be really smart like Hermione? Fred hoped not- it would be way more funny to have small versions of Ron running about stupidly. But Fred's mind was suddenly focused only on George. Guilt rushed into his as he realised just what he'd done to his brother. Crying, starving and mourning, all for nothing. George was Fred's brother and best friend. He was convinced that when he'd left, he'd been doing the right thing, that at least he'd be loved in his absence but now… now Fred regretted the last twenty years of his life.

Trying desperately to hide his gilt, Fred removed the final letter and immediately knew who it was from. He'd seen that scrawled handwriting uncountable times before.

 _You are a massive idiot. Why didn't you come and find us? It's been almost impossible living with mum for the last twenty years, she used to call me Fred by mistake and then we'd both start fighting with each other and end up in tears on the floor. The joke shop almost closed, I couldn't run it by myself, but Ron jumped in and helped. It's not the same._

 _I blamed everyone. Harry, Percy, myself for not being there with you, even mum telling us we were allowed to fight when Ginny couldn't. If she'd said that we couldn't help, then you wouldn't have_ died _and so much would be different. I miss you, mate. Even now when I know you're ok. I want things how they were. I want my brother back._

 _Love George._

 _P.S. You have my word that, since Saturday, I have dutifully eaten every meal that our lovely mother has served._

Fred sniffled and wiped his eyes from the tears that had begun to fall down his cheeks. Choking back a sob, he wished more than anything that the holidays would soon be over and he could see his family again. Why did he have to wait five weeks?

"Thanks, Mol," he said to his daughter who was still standing next to him, stroking a snoozing Pepper.

"Dad, are we still going to play Quid-"

But Fred had hushed her and turned to the TV. "Listen a minute."

"Meanwhile, across the UK, people are being advised to stay inside as an unseasonal storm is heading all the way across the country," the news reporter said, "Scientists have no idea how long the storm will last. It is not like any storm Britain has ever seen before. From the little information, we have been given, we can tell you that this storm is going to be extremely dangerous. We have been told that it's almost unnatural. The storm is scheduled to hit the country tomorrow and last at least a few days. Citizens have been advised to stay at home as much as possible."

"Almost unnatural, eh?" Fred repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Sorry, Mol, what were you saying?"

"Oh, I was just asking if we'd still be able to play Quidditch on Saturday?"

"It depends on the weather, Molly. If that storm really does hit then I'm afraid I'll just have to explain it at home. If they're wrong, then, of course, we'll still go out."

"Ok, I need to go and walk Willow."

"I'll join you." Fred jumped to his feet and headed to the cloakroom to grab a coat.

Willow bounded out the door and Molly nearly tripped as she was pulled forward forcefully. They walked down the street hand-in-hand in silence for a while and just as they were turning the corner to towards the park, Molly asked quietly, "Do you regret taking me to Diagon Alley?"

"Of course not! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ever thought about speaking to my family again. It's thanks to you that I know I have to."

"But, your sister's so angry and-"

"I think you know that Ginny would rather know I was alive and be annoyed at me than think I was dead."

They crossed the street and entered the park.

"Molly, do you have your wand with you?" Fred asked.

"Erm, I think I still have it in my pocket, actually," she fished out the beautiful, silver wand, and handed it to her dad, "Yes, it's here. Why?"

"I don't know whether or not you figured it out from what Mr. Ollivander told you but George and I made that. That wand. We were only messing about, trying to see if we could make accurate prototypes, for the joke shop, we wanted them to look real, so we could sell them as fake wands, but then found out that wands couldn't be made from silver birch trees. After that, we just left it at your Uncle Bill's and forgot about it until we saw Mr. Ollivander with it."

Smiling, Fred handed the wand back to Molly, who kept it out, also grinning, and they continued to walk through the park, chatting about the many wonders of Hogwarts. As they got further into the park, Fred noticed a very thin and weary looking fox lying in the shade of a nearby tree. Its head was nested on its two front paws and its dark eyes seemed to be staring right in the direction of Fred and Molly. When the two of them got closer to the tree, it got up and padded towards them. Its fur was dirty and stuck together in clumps and its tail sagged loosely towards the path. As it neared, Fred noticed that its left ear was missing. Handing Willow's lead to her father, Molly walked slowly toward the fox and began to stroke its back. At her touch, the fur seemed to clean itself, becoming smooth and silky. The fox's ear pricked up slightly and its eyes seemed to retrieve a glimmer but it still looked ill and worryingly thin. Her hand seemed to glow in the Autumn light as her fingers untangled the tats and knots in the fox's fur. Fred looked down at the fox and the fox looked back. They shared a look as though they were long-lost relatives, apparently, neither of them knew what had just happened. Willow began to bark at the fox, jumping and pulling at the lead.

"Don't worry, Willow, it's just a fox," Fred said but with an edge of awkward uncertainty and he dragged Willow away, Molly following close behind.

"Did you see the way it cleaned when I stroked it?" Molly cried excitedly.

"I've never noticed any magic in you up until then. I suppose that now I know you're a witch, I'm paying more attention."

"That was magic?" Molly said, amazed.

"No, Mol. I was only joking- it's completely normal for foxes to miraculously clean themselves whenever they want to. It's an adaptation they picked up from living in the wild."

Molly giggled as she sat with her dad on a nearby bench to watch Willow chase bees, butterflies and squirrels around the park.

"Dad! Dad, look! The fox. It followed us!"

Fred looked over his shoulder and sure enough, the same, thin fox was stalking towards them through the trees.

"Watch Willow for a moment, please," Fred requested as he got up and walked toward the fox, "Make sure she doesn't go too far."

He bent down so that he was level with the fox.

"You promised me you'd eaten," he whispered, and the fox seemed to smile back at him, "I can't explain now. Not here. It looks suspicious enough that I'm stroking a wild fox."

The fox seemed to glance disappointedly at Fred and then it lowered its head, "I thought you were staying with mum, how did you get here? Did you come straight from work?"

The fox nodded.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you but I can't believe how stupidly you acted. Not eating, crying every night!" when the fox snapped his head up to look at him, Fred said, "Ron told me," The fox seemed to roll its eyes, "What was wrong with you? You should have just got on."

The fox shook its head and sat down next to Fred who was still squatting to the floor.

"Do you have any idea how awkward this is?" Fred demanded, "I don't even know if I'm actually talking to you! You could just be a random and strangely tame fox!"

The fox pulled off his grin and shook its head. Standing up, Fred said, "I'm loving the new look by the way. You should keep it. It means you're a lot less loud… and oddly cute."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The rain started at exactly 00:00. When the second hand hit the sixty-second mark every minute, the thunder clapped and precisely thirty seconds later, a flash of lightning burst into view. This continued for seven, long hours as Saturday morning crawled on.

421 thunder claps,

420 minutes,

And 419 flashes of lightning.

The clap that woke up Fred was particularly loud and vicious. He yawned as he got up and walked across the room. He slid open the curtain a little and peered out. He stood there for about twenty seconds but no longer than that as, when the lightning struck and the garden was illuminated, Fred spotted two small figures sitting outside his back door in the garden. He rushed down the stairs as quickly but quietly as he could. They weren't human- he had an idea to what one of them actually was.

The fox hadn't just followed him through the park. It'd followed him home. And it'd brought a friend.

He opened the front door and a very soggy, one-eared fox plodded into the house, an equally drenched tabby cat following close behind. The two animals dripped water all the way through the kitchen and then into the living room. The cat and the fox sat there, simply looking expectantly at Fred who finally understood and said, "I'll go get you some towels."

When he returned a few seconds later, the fox and the tabby cat had vanished and in their places sat a young man, almost identical to Fred and an old woman, whose grey hair was wrapped up in a tight bun and whose spectacles sat on the edge of her pointed nose, threatening to fall off. The young man got up as Fred re-entered and walked towards him, wrapping his twin in a hug as he drew closer. The two of them stood there, in the middle of Fred's dimly lit living room for a few moments, their focus only on the fact that they had finally been reunited with each other.

"Well, this is… nice," Fred said awkwardly, slowly disentangling himself from his brother and handing out the warm, fluffy towels. In the chaos of their previous meeting, Fred hadn't quite seen his brother properly but was now thankful of that. George's once, kind, chocolate eyes were darker and sunken into his pale face with no light left in them. He was so thin that his skin stuck to every bone, making him appear to be a no more than a skeleton. Greasy, tatty hair sat like a bush on top of his head "What exactly are you two doing up? Aren't normal people asleep at six a.m. on a weekend?"

"As you know Mr. Weasley, we are not normal people," said Professor McGonagall, "Surely you realised this when you started Hogwarts?"

"I realised long before that, I had to live with Percy," Fred replied, "and please don't call me 'Mr. Weasley', you sound as though you're about to give me detention."

"I see no reason why I shouldn't!" McGonagall replied sharply.

"I'm forty years old!" Fred retorted.

"Yet you still act like you're four! Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you find your family?" she demanded.

"Would you mind keeping your voice down? I have a wife and a child who are asleep upstairs… also really grumpy neighbours next door."

"My questions still stand, Mr. Weasley. Where have you been?"

"Here."

"Why didn't you find us? Any of us?"

Fred walked over to a drawer and slid it open. From it, he retrieved Molly's Hogwarts letter. He turned to face McGonagall and said, "It doesn't seem like you needed me to find you!"

McGonagall slumped back in her seat and fell quiet.

"You knew!" George demanded, turning on her, "All this time! You knew he was alive and you didn't tell us!"

George knew he should be annoyed at his brother, but he couldn't find it in his heart. Fred was his best friend, almost his other half. There was no way on the planet that he could be annoyed, no matter how hard he tried.

"I couldn't be sure. I knew there was a Molly Weasley who lives in this house and who has magical powers, but I could only guess who she was the daughter of. Of course, it couldn't be your sister, as her last name would of course be Potter, not Weasley. I had my suspicions, of course, but I could never know, not until the child attended Hogwarts, which of the Weasleys, she was the daughter of."

"Why didn't you visit the house then? Or come to the Burrow and ask? If you were so curious surely, that would have been the simplest option for you," George snapped.

"I don't know," McGonagall said simply. "I really don't know"

George took his seat again and Fred sat next to him. They said nothing for a while, but Fred didn't mind the silence. He was just so delighted to be back with his brother after twenty years. Finally, George said, "I wish you'd come back earlier, mate, we're old now!"

Fred snorted, "Why are you here?"

"For the truth," George replied, sitting up.

"The truth about what?"

"How did you do it, how did you survive?" McGonagall asked, also straightening in her chair.

"It's a long story," Fred said, "I was planning on explaining everything in September at King's Cross. But apparently, George couldn't wait a few weeks."

"And, in case you hadn't noticed, Mr. Weasley, I'll be at the school when the students are boarding the train so won't be there to hear the story."

"So you want me to explain the last twenty years at half six in the morning?"

"Well why else would we be visiting at this time?"

"I don't know, for a cup of tea and a biscuit?" Fred said sarcastically.

"Oh, yes please," George said.

Fred looked at him eyebrows raised.

"White, no sugar," George instructed.

Fred sighed and got up, "Professor?" he asked McGonagall.

"Black, one sugar, please."

Sighing, Fred left the living room to make tea. He flicked on the kettle and collected three mugs from the cupboard. The kettle began to whistle as Fred took a teabag and dropped it into the blue teapot that sat on the counter. When the bubbling kettle popped off, Fred poured the steaming water over the teabag as he added milk to two of the three mugs and sugar to the other. Fred smiled as he remembered that George and he always had the same type of tea: just enough milk to cover the bottom of the mug, no sugar. While the tea brewed, Fred bent down and pulled open the cupboard door next to him. From it, he took a packet of biscuits and he emptied a few onto a plate. Placing the selection on a tray, he picked up the teapot and poured out the three cups. He carried the tray through to the living room and handed out the tea. As he offered around the biscuits, McGonagall produced her wand and flicked it at the fireplace where George was standing, looking at the photos placed on top. The fire exploded into life but George didn't move. He was clutching one of the frames, the one that Fred had only put up a few days earlier.

"You still have it," George said, turning the picture in Fred's direction, "We buried this with you and you still have it? Still?"

"Naturally," Fred replied smiling at the photo of the Weasley family in Egypt. "I couldn't get rid of it, even with our stupid haircuts."

George replaced the photo on the mantle-piece smiling and turned around, "So, I believe we came here for an explanation, mate. So, I'd get explaining if I were you because we aren't leaving until we get a good one," he sat down on the nearest armchair and stared patiently at Fred.

"You might be here a while," Fred said, taking a sip of tea.

"That's fine. We'll wait," McGonagall said.

"This all started about twenty-four years ago when You-Know-Who-"

"You may say his name, he was destroyed two decades ago," McGonagall interrupted sharply.

"Fine. In the summer before Voldemort returned, when there was the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, George, Ginny and I were running to find a safe spot in the forest. For a while, I got separated from them in the crowds and ran straight into the Death Eaters."

"You what?" George demanded.

"Shut up, I'm explaining. Anyway, there I was, surrounded by loads of Death Eaters and no way out without being killed. Good old Lucius Malfoy told the rest that they weren't to kill me yet and that he wanted to talk to me first. He forced me to make an Unbreakable Vow with him. If I told him every plan I knew of to do with the Order or moving Harry from safe house to safe house or any plans for the war, he'd make sure, to the best of his ability, that none of the Weasley family died in the war. I know I shouldn't have done it, and I felt so immensely guilty but I had no choice. He forced me to make the Vow. I couldn't tell any of you what I'd done- I knew you'd all hate me for it, even though I'd done it for you- and only the few Death Eaters that were there knew about it. But, I slipped up a few times.

"My first mistake was when dad got attacked by that snake at the Ministry. I didn't tell him that there was someone on duty at the Ministry every night, so he let Nagini almost kill dad, but the Vow stopped him from dying.

"A year after that, when Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts, Malfoy decided that it was my fault that Harry had got a few D.A. members to fight against them so ordered Greyback to attack Bill. Don't ask me how he managed that from Azkaban, I have no idea, but Bill only got attacked because of me.

"Malfoy was looking for any excuse to get us killed or injured. He couldn't let Greyback kill Bill because then he'd be breaking his part of the Vow. He probably thought that because most of the Order were there fighting that we all knew about it and that I'd broken part of the vow so Greyback attacked Bill as a little reminder for me.

"So then, a year later still, I continue to tell Malfoy any plans I know of and Malfoy continues to keep us safe. But when I was informing him of us moving Harry one night, and didn't know specifically where he was being taken, Malfoy made Snape's curse rebound and hit you. Malfoy had to make sure I told him everything, so kept sending me little warnings just so I didn't forget."

"And now we get to the battle. I successfully told Malfoy everything I knew about where people were stationed to fight, so he kept us alive. Ron survived the fiendfyre, Ginny survived all those battles she got herself into even though she was too young to fight that strongly that many times. Every battle one of us got into, even if we were outnumbered and losing, we'd survive, uninjured."

"Mum's fight with Bellatrix," George said quietly, he was very pale, paler even than he had been at Diagon Alley.

"What?"

"Bellatrix attacked Ginny and then Mum duelled with Bellatrix and killed her. Everyone thought that Bellatrix was going to win and that in the space of a few hours, we'd have two dead Weasleys."

Fred shook his head. "The Vow broke when I _'died'_. It was an accident, the explosion wasn't meant to happen, Malfoy was meant to stop it but he couldn't. If it wasn't for that Vow, I really would be dead right now. So would you, dad, Bill, Ron and who knows who else."

"That doesn't explain why you didn't come and find us after though," George said.

"I was ashamed. I felt so bad that I gave away all our secrets about the Order, about both battles and about moving Harry from Privet Drive. I thought you'd all hate me for what I'd done. I did try to go back to the Burrow, but when I got there, no-one was in. I was so prepared to explain everything, to tell you all how sorry I was, but when I turned up to an empty house, I took that as a sign. There was no way on Earth I'd be welcome there now so I left. I moved to London and told myself I'd never pick up a wand again, I wouldn't involve myself in magic at all until the day I actually died.

"I met Kat and moved in with her, and a few years later, we had Molly. I knew that I had to make sure Molly's life was as normal as possible so I tried to forget all about magic. Of course, I kept my wand and my broom but I never once looked at them while Molly was growing up. I must admit I was doing a pretty good job of forgetting about Hogwarts until Molly's letter came. I don't know why I didn't suspect it. Even though she'd never shown any signs of magic at all, I still should have known. The next morning, I was later leaving for work because I was explaining about magic and Hogwarts to Molly and I met dad. I tried to forget about that too, it was a one off and wouldn't happen again, but I took Molly to Diagon Alley. I saw Harry and Ginny so dashed into the nearest shop to avoid them but literally ran into mum. Even though I'd altered my appearance slightly, she still recognised me and apparently went and told you and Ron. It was just my luck that I happened to be in the joke shop when the three of you had that argument and it was even better that my charm wore off.

"The rest, you know. Molly and I met you in the park and it was then I saw the first signs of magic in her. She stroked you as a fox and your fur cleaned and smoothed."

"But what about all those other injuries, When Ron got splinched, when we all had to write with those horrible quills from Umbridge, when we got hit with bludgers in Quidditch, when Ginny fell down the stairs at Grimmauld place, when we had to sit our O.W.L.S?" George asked.

"It was only life-threatening accidents that Malfoy could stop, we were hardly going to die because of an exam, as painful as it was."

"Mr. Weasley, I cannot believe what I just heard."

Fred started, he'd almost forgotten McGonagall was there; he'd been directing most of his story to his brother.

"Is it all true?" she asked.

"Every word."

"I can't figure out if you've been loyal, cowardly, traitorous or completely idiotic."

"I'd say all of them," Fred concluded sadly.

Rain continued to patter on the windows outside as the three of them sat in complete silence, absorbing what Fred had just told them.

After a few moments, Fred remembered something.

"Molly bought our wand, George."

"Excuse me?"

"That wand we made at Bill's house- the one we didn't think actually worked and then Ollivander found and took."

"Oh yeah."

"Molly bought it, it chose her."

"Really?"

"Yep. It's sitting in her room right now."

"I still didn't believe that it would work, even when Ollivander bought it from us."

Fred chewed on a biscuit for a while before asking, "So what about you two? Has anything extraordinary happened without me?"

"Nothing major," McGonagall replied, still shaky from the shock of what had just been told to her, "Small bit of trouble at school with the sons of Potter and Malfoy. They've formed a strong friendship which their parents don't agree with but apart from that, everything's been rather boring."

Fred smiled, "What about you, George?"

"It seems I've named my son after my dead brother who isn't really dead!" George said while Fred snorted into his tea and raised an eyebrow, "Angelina and I have got Fred jnr. who's a year younger than your Molly and Roxanne who's a year younger still. Harry and Ginny have three kids: James, Albus and Lily. Ron and Hermione have two- Rose and Hugo. Bill and Fleur have Victoire, Dominique and Louis. Percy and his wife, Audrey have two daughters, Molly and Lucy. Charlie's still working in Romania with dragons- he's not married and doesn't have any kids."

"Am I meant to remember all that?" Fred asked, shocked, "There are three Molly's! Honestly!"

"You don't really have to worry about Victoire, Dominique or Louis. Bill and Fleur sent them to Bauxbatons, although Victoire has left now and is, I believe, dating Teddy Lupin who is now Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Fred sighed, "That's a lot of information. I don't think my brain can cope with it," he paused, "So you're married to Angelina? As in Angelina Johnson?"

"That's the one. She was delighted when she heard you're alive. Shame, really. I was sure she always preferred you to me. It's been hard for her; she's had to work doubly hard to make sure I'm ok as well as raise two kids! I had a complete meltdown without you. I refused to talk to anyone for a while and she seemed like the only person who I _could_ talk to because everyone else just broke down crying when you were mentioned."

"We had a service after the Hogwarts Battle. The name of everyone who'd died was carved by hand into a statue of the castle. Professor Dumbledore at the top, followed by you, Alastor Moody, Severus Snape, Remus, Nymphadora Tonks, Dobby the house elf, Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, Vincent Crabbe and all the others who died. We also added the names of Sirius Black, Cedric Diggory and- as Potter insisted- Hedwig the owl," McGonagall said, "I can only assume that your name will be removed from it now."

"It was horrible. Everyone was crying and screaming for their dead friends and family members to come back. Of course, after the service at Hogwarts, families held individual funerals. Loads of people came to yours, I didn't know half of them, they were just customers from the joke shop."

"I never thought I'd be having my own funeral described to me," Fred said thoughtfully, "I reckon I'm the only person alive who's had that honour. Who's the Minister for Magic?" he asked.

"Ms. Granger," McGonagall replied, "and I must say, she's rather good at it."

Once Molly and Kat had come downstairs and been introduced to George and McGonagall, the five of them went through to the kitchen for breakfast.

"I can't believe I'm eating breakfast with my new headmistress," Molly said, "It's a bit strange."

"You should be honoured, Mol," Fred told her, "It's not every day to get to dine with the headmistress of the best wizarding school in the world."

For a while, everyone munched on their toast not speaking before Fred asked, "I don't suppose you could explain some of that the last twenty years to mum and dad, could you George?"

"Not really, mate. It's way too complicated I suppose you could come to the Burrow today though, if you don't want to wait until September. Everyone's staying there at the moment. It's so crowded that we had to put one of those extra-large magical tents up in the garden. It's complete chaos. There's twelve kids plus Teddy in the tent and then Ron and Hermione are in Ron's old room, Angelina and I are in ours, Percy and Audrey in Percy's, Bill and Fleur are in Bill's room and Harry and Ginny are in Ginny's room. Oh, and Charlie's just in his room. It's so crowded, we barely have enough room to breathe!"

"Are you sure I'd be welcome amongst all this?"

"Yeah, you'll be fine. Most of us are at work all day."

"I'll come after breakfast then."

"Dad, can I come too?" Molly asked.

"What, and have everyone's brain explode because there are three Molly's in one house at the same time?"

"Oh, please, dad. I'd love to meet everyone," she pleaded.

Fred looked at Kat and she shrugged back at him, "I don't see why not but I won't come. It seems like your mother has got more than enough people staying with her currently. I'll get on with some housework."

"Thank you so much!" said Molly, hugging both her parents and skipping off.

"You're walking Willow when we get back though!" Fred called after her.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

About an hour later, when everyone had finished breakfast and they were ready to leave, Molly asked, "How will we get to the Burrow?"

"You'll see soon enough," George replied, winking at her.

Although the four of them had gathered in the hallway, it was not the front door that they were soon being led through but the door to the living room. George laughed at the confused look on Molly's face, "Don't tell me you haven't explained to your daughter what Floo Powder is!" he said to Fred.

"I've had more important things to be thinking about lately."

George turned back to Molly, "This is Floo Powder," he said, taking out a small pouch from his pocket and opening it, "We'll show you how it works, you just have to make sure you speak very clearly and don't get out until you've stopped moving and can see us. And keep your mouth closed and elbows tucked in. I'll go first, then Professor, you can next, followed by Molly and then, Fred. Although I think you should wait a few minutes after Professor McGonagall goes, we'll tell mum we've brought visitors with us and she can come and see you when you arrive," and with that, he took a small pinch of the strange dust from the pouch and stepped into the fireplace. He dropped the powder at his feet and said loudly, "The Burrow," with a flash of emerald green light, George Weasley had vanished. Next, McGonagall stepped onto the coals, taking a very small handful of Floo Powder as she did so. Just as George had done, she stated where she was going and vanished. It really was rather dramatic.

As George had proposed, Molly waited a while before she put her hand in the pouch and grabbed a pinch of powder. Nervously, she stepped into the fireplace.

"Now just say where you want to go and drop the powder. Don't worry, it's safe. Remember what George told you," Fred encouraged.

"The Burrow!" Molly cried and let go of the dust. As the others had done, Molly disappeared in a curtain of green flames.

Calling goodbye to Kat as he left, Fred followed Molly, standing under the chimney and vanishing in a poof of green.

It was the weirdest sensation Fred had experienced in quite a while. The world twisted and turned around him and he saw the occasional flash of another wizard's fireplace. A few seconds later, he found himself standing weakly under the mantel-piece of the Burrow. He put his hand against the sooty wall to steady himself, "It's been a while since I last did-" but the rest of his sentence was muffled by the shoulder of Mrs. Weasley who had rushed forward and engulfed her son in a bone-crushing hug. For a while, Fred enjoyed the feeling of being in his mother's arms again but then he realised he couldn't breathe.

"Ow, mum. Mum, I can't breathe," he stuttered and when she didn't let go, he said loudly, "Mother dearest, I love you very much and have missed you terribly but I do also enjoy the luxury of breathing!"

Mrs. Weasley released her grip on her son and looked between the twins happily as if making sure they really were both there.

"Oh it's so good to see you boys back together at last!" she exclaimed and then pulled the twins together to admire them.

But the happy mother-son reunion didn't last as Molly's kind, motherly smile soon turned into an icy glare and she turned on Fred, "Where on Earth have you been? How _did_ you do it?" she demanded and she placed her hands on her hips.

"I'll explain later when everyone's home."

Regretfully, Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and turned away to look at her granddaughter who was sitting awkwardly at the kitchen table.

"You must be Molly," she said kindly also wrapping her in a hug, "Come on, I'll introduce you two to everyone. Well, everyone who isn't at work. They're all outside in the tent, this way."

To Fred, it felt as though he hadn't left the Burrow at all. Everything looked exactly the same, just cleaner and somehow more spacious. As they walked through the kitchen, Fred glanced at the clock. He searched for his spoon but to no avail. Clearly even the magical clock thought him to be dead. But as he walked past, it whirred excitedly and a shining, golden spoon popped onto its face. It spun around the clock until finally it landed on 'Home'. Fred smiled as he stepped through the door to the garden. The sky was still a miserable shade of grey, despite that the thunder and lightning had stopped a few hours ago. His heart was pounding excitedly in his chest as Mrs. Weasley pulled open the tent door. Inside sat the children of various Weasley's as well as Angelina Johnson, Charlie, and someone he assumed was Teddy Lupin. They sat in a large circle chatting and laughing but when Fred entered with his mother, daughter, twin and Professor McGonagall, everyone fell quiet and Charlie was the first to stand.

"I didn't believe it when they told me. I never thought for one minute anyone could survive that explosion," he said and clapped his brother on the back. Angelina got up next and tackled Fred with a hug.

"I can't believe you!" she exclaimed, "You left me to put up with him, all by myself!" she said pointing at George.

"Thanks a lot," George said, "I love you too."

Fred peered down at everyone else who was sitting or lying at his feet. He'd never seen so many confused faces in his life."

"Everyone," George began, "This is Fred, he-"

"But I'm Fred!" protested a small ginger, freckly boy who was sitting next to Angelina.

"Yes, you are. But you're Fred the second. This," he indicated at his brother, "is Fred the first, he older and-"

"-way better looking than you." Fred finished, but no one laughed. No one even smiled.

"Anyway, this is Fred, he's my brother- twin brother- and up until a few days ago, we all thought he was dead."

Everyone stares at Fred in silence. A few people looked shocked, others relieved. When Fred couldn't take the silence any longer, he cleared his throat and asked, "So, Angelina, how come you're not at work? Day off, or do you not work during the holidays?"

"I'm the flying teacher and head of Gryffindor at Hogwarts, so I get school holidays to come back here," she replied.

"How many of our teachers still work at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Trelawney still does Divination, Firenze resigned and returned to the forest after the Battle, the centaurs decided that they'd welcome him back. Hagrid still teaches Care of Magical Creatures. Filch retired years ago, he's been replaced by Mandy Anguis, she's an animagus- turns into a snake and terrifies the kids… and the staff. I've taken over from Madame Hooch and I'm head of Gryffindor, Teddy here's Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and Neville took over from Professor Sprout after she retired."

"So, who's head of Hufflepuff?"

"That would be me," Teddy said proudly.

Fred smiled, realising how much Teddy looked like his mother. He had a small, pixie-like face and wild hair, which was currently a rather odd shade of brown. Fred had no doubt that by the end of the night, it would be a completely different colour, possibly luminous yellow or hot pink.

"Anyway, I think apart from that, everything else is the same. Except, of course, Professor McGonagall is headmistress."

"Shall we have some tea and some introductions?" Mrs. Weasley suggested, "There're lots of us here, I'm sure there's lots to talk about" And she bustled off to the kitchen. Angelina got up and hurried after her, Fred winked at her naughtily as she passed and George glared at him.

Fred laughed, "Something wrong, George?" and he too left the tent after Angelina.

Smirking slightly, George followed him, "You better be joking, Fred Weasley. You have a daughter!" he shouted after his brother.

Fifteen minutes later, Molly, Fred, George and Angelina returned to the tent with trays of tea and cakes.

"Here you go everyone," she said as the mugs flew towards everyone, "Albus, dear," she said to a young, brown haired boy who sat in the corner, his knees tucked up to his chest, "Aren't you having any?"

Albus turned away from the mug.

"Not even some cake?"

He shook his head but said nothing. The boy sitting to his left took the mug from the air and placed it next to his own.

"Don't bother, James," Albus said gloomily to the floor. "You know I won't have it."

James glared at his younger brother and then turned back to face Mrs. Weasley. He smiled sympathetically and Mrs. Weasley smiled back as if to say, _'Don't worry, you tried'._ She waved her wand and the mug vanished.

"Does everyone else have some cake? Victoire?" she asked the blonde girl who sat opposite her. For a second, Fred thought he was looking at Fleur Delacour's younger sister, Gabrielle but then began to notice small differences between the two girls. Victoire's hair was shorter and curlier with streaks of ginger whereas Gabrielle's hair- as Fred remembered- was purely blonde and straight.

"No, thank you grand-mère, I'm not hungry."

"Give it to your brother then, his portion looks a bit smaller than everyone else's."

Louis took the cake thankfully and began to chew on it happily. Much like his father, Louis had long, ginger hair with highlights of blond and light brown. He had a short, round face and bright blue eyes. Once you got past the fact he was eating extremely loudly with his mouth wide open, he really was quite handsome. He didn't look much like Dominique, who was sitting next to James, or Victoire, who both had long, thin faces and hazel eyes.

"Eat with your mouth closed, Louis, that's disgusting," Victoire told her brother, her nose turned up. Fred smiled at the resemblance between Victoire and her mother.

Everyone enjoyed Mrs. Weasley's cake and fruit tea and when they'd all finished and Angelina had moved the plates into the kitchen, Fred Jnr's younger sister, Roxanne, said, "I'm glad you're not dead."

Everyone turned to look at her. She had light brown skin and very dark hair. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the daylight that was streaming through the tent door.

"It's good. It means that dad won't get upset anymore when we come to visit grandma or when he comes back from work sometimes and there'd been a bad customer who'd accidently called him by the wrong name. I hated seeing dad upset. It was horrible, but now he won't be sad anymore."

"And, if he starts working at the joke shop again, it means my dad won't have to work as hard. He has to go in every day, even when Uncle George doesn't. I'll get to see him more," said a scrawny boy with bright ginger hair. "It gets boring at home when Rose stays at school for the holidays and mum and dad both are at work. There's nothing to do."

"Hugo, in a few years, you'll be able to come to Hogwarts too and you can stay there over the holidays with me," Rose said comfortingly to her brother.

"But I'm the youngest here, so the year before I go to Hogwarts, I won't have anyone's house to go to. It's ok at the minute because Roxanne, Lily, Lucy, Molly and Fred all get the same holidays as me so I can go to theirs!" Hugo protested.

"Stop complaining, Hugo!" Rose ordered, "Not everyone stays at Hogwarts over Christmas and Easter! There'll be plenty of people to talk to."

"But what about during term time?"

"Now, now, Hugo dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, "You said yourself you'll be able to spend more time with your father now, and if everyone else is away, you can always come here."

This seemed to cheer Hugo up slightly as he began to chew on his cake happily. The tent once again fell silent and soon, rain began to patter against the edge of the canvas.

"Oh, that stupid storm," Mrs. Weasley said angrily, "It kept everyone awake last night. They were exhausted when they left this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if they fell asleep at work!"

The rain grew steadily heavier throughout the morning, so when Mrs. Weasley had to rush inside to fetch lunch, she returned thoroughly drenched, her clothes stuck to her skin and her sopping hair dripped onto the floor of the tent.

"Hopefully the food didn't get too wet," she fussed, dishing out sandwiches, crisps and grapes onto all the plates. "Now, Albus really. You must eat your lunch, I can't have to starving to death, can I?" she said when a dark-haired boy in the far corner didn't take his plate. "What would you prefer?"

When Albus didn't reply, James said, "Albus is fine with sandwiches, he'll eat them just like everyone else is, won't you, Albus?"

Albus grunted in reply and reluctantly took his plate from the air. Still scowling, he nodded his thanks at his grandmother and glared at James who had already turned back to Dominique and begun talking happily to her. Albus pulled a face at James behind his back, causing Lily to giggle and James to turn back around. But just as he was about to snap back at his brother, the tent flap opened and Ginny walked in, soaking wet and shivering.

"Blimey, it's cold out there!" she said.

"Ginny, dear! You're home early!"

"Part of the Ministry was flooded from the storms so when I got back from the Quidditch match, I couldn't actually get into my office so I just came home to do the report here," she explained.

"Have you had any lunch yet, dear?"

"No, not yet, but if there's some going around, I'll have some. I'm starving."

She sat down next to her mother and bit into a sandwich, unaware that her supposedly dead older brother was sitting only a few metres away from her. Fred coughed loudly and Ginny looked up. She froze in the middle of a bite, staring at him. Slowly, she put her sandwich down on her plate and got up again. Taking a step towards Fred, she raised her arm above her shoulder and before anyone could realise what she was doing, she punched her brother directly in the forehead. He fell back against the canvas, groaning in pain, his vision blurred slightly and head pounding. He tried to sit up but was immediately met by another hard punch from his sister.

"You- are- such- an- inconsiderate- stupid- lying- brat! Where- on- Earth- have- you- been?" she shouted and in between each word, she kicked her brother hard in the shin. No matter how hard anyone tried to hold Ginny back, she just fought them off too. It took several minutes, lots of kicks and even more punches to the face as well as George, James and Teddy's combined strength to keep Ginny away.

"Mum!" James cried while his mother continued to struggle against them. "What are you doing? Stop!"

Everyone else had scrambled against the walls of the tents in an attempt to move as far away as possible from the fight.

"Ginny, will you just stop?" George yelled at his sister, "You absolute maniac! What are you playing at?"

Ginny wriggled free from the boys and stormed out the tent. "Just be thankful, I didn't use my wand!" she snarled as she left, taking extra care to kick Fred in the face as she left.

George bent down next to Fred who was groaning and rubbing his head.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Fred opened his eyes and looked up at his brother, except all he could see was a ginger blur on top of a peachy coloured circle.

George helped him sit up and said, "That was so unnecessary, she shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."

"No, I deserved it."

"No way. That was bang out of order, she just doesn't understand, she doesn't know what happened."

"Yeah, and when she finds out I'll bet she's just as annoyed, if not more."

"You did it for us, Fred! There's no way you would have made that vow any other way!"

"But Harry could have died after what I did, George! We could have lost the war!"

Fred's vision was slowly beginning to return to normal and around him, he could see the terrified, concerned faces of everyone. He forced a smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I've suffered a lot worse than a punch to the face, I mean, I've died and survived it!"

Mrs. Weasley rushed forward and crushed him in a hug. "Oh, honestly, I don't know what got into her," she said, "I think she's just had a tough day at work. I'm sure she's glad to see you really, dear."

With support from George, Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley, Fred was helped inside and into the living room where he sat next to his brother.

"You've got to tell mum, Fred," George said. "Tell her now, you don't have to wait for everyone else. It's only one extra time you have to tell the story."

Mrs. Weasley looked expectantly at her son and McGonagall said, "Tell your mother, Mr. Weasley. She needs to know."

"Fine."

And so, Fred explained everything to his mother. From when he got separated from Ginny and George, to the family deaths he prevented but also the deaths of friends that he possibly caused. He explained everything that he'd explained earlier that morning to his mother, and when he'd finished, Mrs. Weasley tottered to a chair and sunk into it, her wrinkled face pale and terrified.

"All… all this time, we've been mourning over you, and you saved pretty much all our lives!" she cried.

"Molly, don't you realise what this means?" McGonagall asked the trembling Mrs. Weasley.

Fred and George shared confused expressions and Mrs. Weasley looked up.

"All these things that your son prevented, every accident that almost ended in death but didn't because of this Vow…"

"No," Mrs. Weasley interrupted sharply, "Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" Fred asked.

"The Vow has now been broken so all those terrible, terrible injuries you prevented, could possibly bounce back."

"You mean-"

"Ever since your Vow broke with Mr. Malfoy, your family have been in danger from the perils that you managed to stop."

"But the Vow's been broken for twenty years now! If anything were to happen, it would have by now!" George protested, "We live in the middle of the countryside; we've seen loads of snakes that could have attacked dad!"

"When an Unbreakable Vow is broken without being fulfilled, anything that happened due to that promise is reversed. But magic can be fooled, Mr. Weasley. Even the most complex of spells can easily be broken or tricked. That Unbreakable Vow that Lucius Malfoy and your brother made was deceived when your brother here, _'died'_. It thought he was dead and therefore, as one of the two participants in the original oath was, shall we say indisposed, the Vow could not return to haunt him."

"But, I thought that the person who broke the Vow died anyway? If I died, it would mean Malfoy broke his side of the Vow and so-" Fred said, confused.

"Mr. Weasley, there was nothing Lucius Malfoy could have done to prevent that explosion. It was unexpected, a surprise. If you have told us this truthfully, Mr. Malfoy said he'd protect your family… to the best of his ability. Unbreakable Vows are a nasty piece of magic. Easy to get around and very easy to trick."

"Then how-?" Fred began.

"You told us that the vow broke when you supposedly were killed. I think you were wrong."

"How so?" George asked, "You just said yourself that even the most complex magic can be fooled."

"Yes, it can but Unbreakable Vows continue beyond the grave, as long as no one breaks it, not that it would matter anyway, as they're dead."

"So, how come this one broke?"

"The war ended, Mr. Weasley. The pledge was no longer needed without the war because the Unbreakable Vow was based around the battle of Hogwarts. When Potter destroyed Voldemort, the war ended. In normal circumstances, this is where the Vow would come back to haunt you but that can only happen if both of the partakers are alive. You see this is where the magic was fooled. It believed you to be dead, Mr. Weasley. Death is the most complex magic of all, more, perhaps than even love. Death tricked the Vow and that was that for twenty long years. But now, Fred Weasley has returned, and it won't be long before things begin to go wrong again.

"Everyone who that Vow protected is now endangered and it will be very difficult to protect them."

"But Snape fired that curse at George and Snape's dead now! So's Nagini so she can't kill dad and… and… and Greyback's in Azkaban so he can't attack Bill!" Fred said, trying to stay calm, despite the rising rate of his heartbeat.

"Perhaps you recall I only said the two people who are needed alive are-"

"The two people who made the Vow," Fred finished and cursed under his breath.

"Once an Unbreakable Vow has been created, it doesn't need that much to keep it going. This magic can kill people without the instruction of anyone else. It's needless to say that both you and Mr. Malfoy are in danger too."

George swore. "You're telling me, I just got my brother back and he could be killed at any minute?" he demanded angrily.

"As could any one of your siblings or parents. We don't know for sure how many people the Vow protected but it's safe to say that a fair few of you are in danger. The only good thing is that none of you can just drop dead at random, you would have to be attacked by something. This makes it slightly easier to protect you but-"

"But we could be attacked by anything. A disease, a seemingly harmless creature, animal or plant, let alone a human," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yes," McGonagall said sadly, "Yes, you can be attacked by anything."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A few hours later, when everyone had returned from work and they all sat at the table in the tent, which had been extended even more to fit everyone in as it was still raining consistently outside, Fred was asked to explain his story for the third time that day. The reaction from everyone was the worst part of it. Most of the children looked confused, but James, Rose, Dominique and Victoire looked positively petrified. Everyone else's face was ghostly white. Hermione looked as though she was going to faint. Ginny, Angelina and Fleur all looked close to tears.

It was Hermione who spoke first, "This doesn't mean-"

"Yes, Ms. Granger, it means exactly that," McGonagall interrupted as though she was reading Hermione's mind, "Now I think that we need to discuss what we're going to do about this inside."

"I agree," Mrs. Weasley said. She waved her wand and the table, dirty dishes and leftover food all vanished. "Those of you sleeping in the tent, stay here and get ready for bed. Everyone else, inside."

In the uproar of complaints, Molly came up to her father and said, "Dad, where do I go? Should I stay here or come in with you?"

"Come in with me, honey," Fred replied and took her hand.

After a few minutes' debate, Molly and Arthur along with their seven children, Fleur, Audrey, Molly, Harry, Angelina, McGonagall and Hermione were squashed in the living room of the Burrow.

After McGonagall had explained with the help of Molly and Hermione about the dangers of the Unbreakable Vow, Harry said, "Well we need to make sure everyone's safe. All the Weasley's are in danger we need to get them all somewhere where they can be protected!"

"What about the Ministry?" Angelina suggested.

"It's way too easy to attack. Anyone can get in and any disease could pass easily from person to person."

"We need it to be somewhere the kids can get to if they need it."

"How about Hogwarts?" Molly suggested. "Dad, you told me Hogwarts was the safest place on Earth and you and Uncle George know the Secrets of Hogwarts better than anyone, and anyone who knows where you are can come to find you easily."

They sat for a while, wracking their brains for somewhere safe where they could go.

"Grimmauld Place!" said Hermione suddenly.

"No one can get into it and Kreacher still lives there, I'm sure he'll let everyone stay there for a while! We can add a few extra charms to make sure everything but you stays away and you'll be safe enough."

When no one suggested a better alternative, Mrs. Weasley said, "So we'll all be moving to Grimmauld Place then, as soon as we can."

"No."

"Fred, we have to. There's no other way," George said.

"You can all go, but it's my fault you have to, so I'm staying to fix it."

"No way!" George cried, "Twenty years was long enough without you, I'm not letting you run loose by yourself again while we're all safely hidden away!"

"George is right," Bill said, "We're all too glad to have you back." Ginny snorted but Bill ignored her and continued, "There's absolutely no chance we're going to stay hidden without even knowing where you are or what you're doing."

Ignoring his older brother, Fred turned to George and said, "Come with me. Don't go and stay at Grimmauld Place. I want you to come too. Please."

George opened his mouth as if to say something but then decided against it, closed his mouth and merely nodded.

"How will you do it?"

"I've got no idea," Fred replied honestly, "But we'll stay until the end of the summer. I want to see Molly off to school. Can Kat come and stay at Grimmauld Place too? I have a really horrible feeling about leaving her alone."

"There's plenty of room for everyone. We'll all be fine."

"We have to get back home. It'll be next week before I can come back; I have work every day except Saturdays. I promise I'll come over next weekend."

He stood up and as he hugged George goodbye, he whispered, "Keep them safe," in his ear. George nodded in response and walked over to the fireplace with him.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I expect so," Fred replied as he signalled for Molly to step into the fire and return home. Once she'd vanished into the bright green fire he said, "Stay out of trouble."

"Impossible"

That night, at exactly midnight, the thunder started again. Same time, same number of thunder claps, same number of lightning strikes, same number of minutes. Fred woke with a start after another loud thunder clap. He rolled over, looked at the clock, and got up for work. For the first time in twenty years, Fred took his wand and turned it over in his hands, admiring the intricate designs. It was so long since he'd looked at it properly and was only just appreciating how beautiful it really was. He placed it in his pocket carefully. Every thunder clap sent shivers down his spine, even though he'd learnt to expect them. The lightning illuminated his room with every terrifying strike. The storm wasn't natural, even a Muggle could tell that but no one knew what was causing it. Fred slipped open the curtain and watched. A few seconds later, the lightning exploded- a perfect zig-zag through the sky. The immaculate pattern stuck in Fred's mind like glue. The single bolt, the precision, the accuracy. A minute later, the lightning struck again. Exactly the same shape in exactly the same place. Frowning, Fred made his way downstairs to get breakfast. Entering the kitchen and flicking on the light, he walked over to the back doors and stared out. Something was really unsettling about the storm and it made Fred's appetite vanish completely. Watching the lightning strike so frequently at the same time every minute in the same place, it was as though it was just turning on and off, on and off like a light. On. Off. On. Off. Fred stood at the back door watching, transfixed. Turning away from the rain splattered French doors, he clicked on the radio.

 _"Meanwhile, all over Britain, this most peculiar storm continues to rage. Scientists have no explanation and no idea when it might stop. Many workplaces have been flooded and closed until the storm stops. The roads are heavy with traffic and getting anywhere seems to take at least an hour longer than usual. We are also being told that there is no need to panic as no casualties have yet occurred due to the storm, although many houses and public buildings have been flooded. The continuous rain, while most inconvenient and irritating does not seem to be dangerous but a warning is being sent out to those living in large cities as it is in places such as London, Birmingham, Newcastle, Glasgow and other towns are being affected the most. For a more information, please visit our website-"_

Fred flicked off the radio. Leaving the kitchen, he opened the living room door for Willow who whined miserably. He bent down to stroke her, "It's alright Willow. It's just a little bit of rain."

 _Boom._

Shaking with fear, Willow whimpered and huddled closer to Fred's legs.

"Come on," Fred told her, "I'll take you upstairs to Molly."

He stood up and walked out, Willow following behind. With every flash of light or crash of thunder, she moaned sadly. Fred pushed opened Molly's bedroom door quietly and Willow rushed past him and bounded up onto her bed where she lay on Molly's feet happily.

As Fred returned to the kitchen, his phone buzzed loudly. He fished around in his pocket for it and removed it. Glancing at the screen, he saw that the message was from his boss. He opened the text and read:

 _The offices have been flooded and destroyed in the storm. There is no way into the building due to all the damage caused. It will take a few weeks to sort out so do not come into work until it's sorted._

Fred deleted the message and returned his phone to his pocket. He left a note on the kitchen table for Kat, telling her where he was going and approximately how long he'd be and then he left the house. Even though it was summer, the sky was dark, miserable and full of grey clouds. He didn't know exactly where he was going but every minute, he watched for the lightning and kept walking towards it.

He walked and walked. Any idea of where he was had vanished quite a while ago so now, as he walked straight towards the rising sun, he was relying entirely on the lightning to guide him. About three-quarters of an hour after he'd left the house, the lightning stopped. Even though the rain continued to shower his jacket, and the wind continued to whip his hair, Fred's only direction had gone. But he didn't stop. He tromped through puddles of mud and over sodden pavements and roads going only one way. He only turned if a wall or building blocked his way but as soon as he possibly could, Fred reverted back to the way he'd been walking for so long. Cars honked at each other on the road next to him and flustered looking people huddled under umbrellas hurried past him. But he didn't stop.

When he reached the centre of London, he looked around to find a way of knowing which way he was facing so he could apparate somewhere and remain facing the right way. Knowing that he had been walking East as he'd been facing the rising sun, he ducked into an alleyway behind a shop and, still facing the same way, disapparated. He ended up, as he planned, a few metres away from where he'd been previously standing and to his delight, he was still facing the same gum-covered brick wall.

Smiling to himself, Fred disapparated a few miles away to a field. He walked for a while and when he saw nothing at all suspicious, he moved to a new area where he did exactly the same. He apparated from field to field, city to city walking for a while before he left. By lunch time, he'd covered most of the areas around London with no success and was absolutely starving due to the lack of breakfast he'd that morning.

Exhausted, he sat in a café, munching on a cheese and tuna sandwich wondering whether the Unbreakable Vow and the storm were linked at all. With the idea that the thunder had been caused by wizards or witches and the timing of the storm- just a week after Fred had been seen on Diagon Alley. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Even after he'd finished his lunch and paid, Fred remained sitting at the table staring out the window at the gap in the gloomy sky where the lightning had struck.

After searching as far as he could in one day without collapsing from exhaustion, Fred gave up and vanished for the last time that day and reappeared outside the Burrow. He walked down the front path, weary and drained of energy from the amount of travelling and apparating he'd done. He knocked on the door and waited, yawning. After a few minutes, the door opened slightly and Mrs. Weasley's freckled nose poked through the gap.

"Oh my goodness!" she cried, opening the door properly "It's just you!"

"Erm… yes. Who else would I be?"

"Never mind that, now," she fussed, bustling him into the living room and sitting him down on a sofa. "You look absolutely awful! What have you been doing?" she demanded as George ran into the lounge at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "I didn't think you were coming back until next week!"

"I wasn't going to but there was something about the storm that was irritating me and I had the day off work because the offices are flooded so I-"

"Offices?" George interrupted, horrified, "You mean to tell me, you pretended to be dead for twenty years so you could work in an office?"

"That's just the thrilling life that I lead, brother dear," Fred replied sarcastically. "Anyway, I've been apparating all day to follow the storm."

"No wonder you're tired!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "Apparating takes a lot out of you, it's incredibly difficult! I'll get you something to eat and then we'll make you up a bed for the night," and she vanished into the kitchen.

"I think the lightning and the Vow are linked," Fred and George said at the same time, "So do I!"

"It's exactly the same shape in exactly the same place every minute. It definitely is not normal; I think wizards are causing it," Fred explained, "It comes from the East. I've been following it all day, apparated about twenty times to different places and then to here. But the lightning always strikes at the same place in the east so it shouldn't be too hard to track."

"Unless it moves every day," George suggested.

"I could see it yesterday from my bedroom window when you and McGonagall came to my house. The window faces the back garden and so does the kitchen and that's where I saw it from this morning. Whatever or whoever is causing the storm isn't doing very well at making it look natural."

"But maybe that's the point. Don't you think it's weird that a week after you're seen at Diagon Alley, an unnaturally uniform yet seemingly harmless storm starts and not one Muggle has noticed the patterns it's making? Someone's trying to get our attention, mate, and I don't think it's a good thing."

At that moment, Mrs. Weasley came back into the living room, holding a large bowl of vegetable soup and a slice of fresh bread.

"Now, we've all eaten already, but that doesn't matter, you can come and sit outside with everyone if you'd like."

"No, thanks. I'd rather not get attacked by Ginny again. I'll stay here."

"Now, really," Mrs. Weasley said, "She was just a little bit… upset. She's relieved to see you really."

"My bruised leg says otherwise."

"Alright then, I'll go and see where there's space for you to stay tonight," she said as she vanished through the door to the kitchen again.

As Fred slurped on his soup, George said, "I sent an owl to Lee yesterday after you left. I haven't had a reply yet but I'm sure he'll be delighted. It was just as horrible for him as it was for me. He beat himself up every time he mentioned you or called me the wrong name accidently. He blamed himself."

"How much did you explain in the letter?"

"Only that you were alive, that it would take a while to explain how and that you'd be coming over next week and he could come too but that's it."

"Tomorrow, if I go out looking for the cause of the storm like I did today, will you come too?"

"It gets boring here, unless I'm at work. The kids always argue with each other. I want something to do."

"It would be better to leave early, so we can follow it for longer. The storm stops at seven, so to get a good chance of finding it we need to leave an hour or so earlier," Fred suggested.

"If we get up at about five then we'll have time to have breakfast."

The two of them then headed outside to sit with everyone else in the tent. Making sure to stay as far away from Ginny- who was glaring icily at him- as possible, Fred sat next to George and Mrs. Weasley. Assuming that they'd been talking about him due to the sudden silence as he ducked in and the sour look on Ginny's face, he coughed awkwardly and shifted around. No one started a conversation, hardly anyone was even looking at him.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked, sensing the tension.

"Nothing," Ginny replied sharply, "Except for maybe the fact you decided to put all of us through the horror and grief of your death and not having the decency to tell us otherwise, turning up at Diagon Alley and still not giving us a decent explanation and now your risking your life to save ours… again!"

"You're annoyed at me because I'm trying to save your life?" Fred shouted.

"Yes! Of course, I am!" Ginny yelled back.

"Ginny, calm down," Harry said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder but Ginny shook him off and grabbed her wand, "No, Harry! Get off!"

Fred said, "If you'll hold off from jinxing me for two seconds, I'd tell you that I'm not the only one risking my life."

Everyone looked at him, "George is coming too."

"What?" Angelina shouted loudly. "You're not going anywhere if you could get killed! You'll come to Grimmauld Place with everyone else!"

"Except me. I exist too," Fred said quietly.

"Angelina, I have to go. He's too stupid to survive by himself."

"I'll come too!" Angelina pleaded.

"No. You have to stay for Fred and Roxy."

"There are loads of people who can look after them!" she protested.

"You are staying right here!" George shouted, "I'm not letting you come, Angelina."

She glared at him angrily, "I promise I'll back. We'll only be a few days. Besides, Fred has to be back to see Molly off to school," George said gently.

"What about your kids, George?"

"His kids who are sitting within five metres of you!" Roxanne said, irritated, "Dad can go off with Uncle Fred, but if he gets hurt or doesn't come back, he'll have us to answer to. Now stop fighting with each other!"

George and Angelina both sealed their mouths tightly. Taking this opportunity, Fred jumped in and said, "Anyway, so we're leaving tomorrow morning to try and find out what the cause of the thunderstorm because we think that the Unbreakable Vow and the storm are linked. It won't take longer than a few days. Hopefully."

"How early will you be getting up?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "I'll make you some breakfast."

Fred yawned, "Too early, mum. We appreciate it, but really, it's fine. We're both old enough to make our own breakfast."

"Even if you're not mature enough," Ginny said under her breath.

"Really? That's just plain…" He yawned again, "…rude."

"We still need to find you a place to sleep. Where is there space?"

"Don't worry, mum. I'll just go on the sofa."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

At 05:00 the next morning, Fred woke with a start after a night's sleep littered with dreams of flashing lights, explosions and loud thunder claps. He rolled over on the sofa with a grunt and pulled his thin, patchwork blanket over his shoulders. He could hear the rain dancing on the windows outside and the thunder that boomed once a minute. Eventually, Fred threw back the cover and got off the settee. As he hadn't brought any spare clothes to the Burrow, he didn't have to get changed, only slide on his jacket and shoes. He walked through to the kitchen, lighting his wand as he went so he could see in the darkness of the gloomy summer morning. Ten minutes later, when George had finally emerged from upstairs looking tired and just as miserable as the weather outside, they bolted down a breakfast of porridge and blueberries and left the house. Immediately, they regretted not bringing a warmer jacket. Howling winds stabbed their skin and rain hit their bare skin with the same force as that of a bullet. The two of them forced their way through the storm, heading East until they reached a field from which they disapparated.

And they did this all day, every time moving somewhere slightly closer to the source of the storm. They appeared in one field, walked for a bit and then vanished again. Once or twice, they accidently apparated to the middle of a city full of people. The two of them had to walk with the crowd as normally as possible for a while until they reached an alley where they could disapparate without drawing attention to themselves.

By the end of the day, they were both soaking wet and so tired they felt as though they were about to collapse, however they felt that they'd definitely made progress as were nearer to where the lightning had struck so early in the morning.

Fred and George stayed overnight in a scruffy inn that was situated in a small village in the countryside. The morning after, the two of them woke, ate a breakfast of cold toast and mouldy jam, and headed off at 05:30. Even though they had draped their jackets and socks over the radiator overnight, their clothes were still drenched from the storm the previous day so walking for miles in the rain with sopping wet clothes, just made the experience even more uncomfortable. It was by far the worst day of the storm yet. The fog was hanging low over the ground which made it impossible for the twins to see even a few meters in front of them. With the thunder rumbling dangerously above them and the lightning flashing viciously every minute, they plodded through fields and cities, hardly even talking.

At lunch time, Fred and George were so completely exhausted, they felt they couldn't keep going.

"Let's move once more to the coast. That's as far East as we can go really as long as we stay in Britain," George proposed as they sat in a café, slurping greedily on some soup, "Then we can walk for a while along the beach and see if we can see anything before finding somewhere to stay the night."

So, after lunch, the two of them disapparated for what they thought would be the last time that day.

Waves were dangerous, the sea choppy. Water crashed against the shore, sending sea spray flying in all directions. The ground was soaked and squelchy so as the two of them walked down the bay, their feet often got stuck in a patch of mud-like sand.

After a few minutes of stumbling around on the beach, Fred and George gave up and went to sit on a nearby bench. The rain continued to patter on them, it seemed as though the further east they got, the more the rain pelted them so now, as they sat together on the drenched bench, Fred and George looked and felt as though they were about to drown in the downpour of continuous water. Fred squinted into the wall of rain in front of them and out into the sea.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the large lump that he'd spotted in the middle of the sea. "In the middle of the water."

"I'm not sure," George replied, also squinting and sitting up slightly, "Is it a boat?"

"No, I don't think so. It's not shaped like a ship and the water's been choppy and unsafe for days, nobody would be stupid enough to go out sailing in this weather. I think it's an island!" he cried.

"You don't think-"

"I bet it is," Fred interrupted, "Are you up for it?"

George smirked and the two of them vanished from the bench. Reappearing at the edge of the small island, the twins peered around them. When neither of them could see any immediate signs of human life, they moved around, searching and looking until they finally reached the far side of the forest-covered island.

"-see the point of continuing with this!" said a voice from the other side of a clump of trees. "All it's doing is attracting the attention of Muggles. He's clearly not realised that anything's wrong with this storm otherwise he would have turned up by now."

"I doubt it. He probably doesn't even realise all the damage that he caused in the first place," another gruff voice replied.

"But what's the point of this storm? If we wanted to get his attention, then why don't we just- What was that?"

Fred cursed under his breath. In an attempt to get a view of the two mysterious speakers, he'd stepped on a twig which had snapped loudly under his weight. He looked at George, face full of apology and mouthed _'What do we do?'_.

 _'Run?_ ' George mouthed back and mimed running away.

 _'Too loud'_ Fred replied, "On three, fire a stunning spell dead ahead," he whispered and then held up his fingers as footsteps began to echo into their ears.

 _"Stupefy!"_ They both shouted, but before either of their spells hit their targets, two bolts of lightning erupted from the air and shot towards them. They ducked behind a tree and sent two more curses in the general direction of their attackers. More bright yellow sparks zoomed past their heads. Fred tried to peer around the tree to see his attackers but both men were wearing full face masks. Several minutes later, Fred and George were still crouched in the cover of the trees shooting random spells at their enemies and they were still having fireworks shot at them from behind.

"We need to get out of here!" Fred shouted to George who was lying on the floor behind a boulder, "We have to go back to the Burrow!"

"We can't stop shooting at them!" George hollered back, "If we let our defences down for even a minute they'll-"

 _Boom!_

The boulder exploded.

"George!" As Fred ran towards his brother, he shot two spells with all the strength and power he could muster at the two masked men. They were blown backwards into a tree where they lay unmoving. He placed a hand over George's heart which was beating weakly and moved his hair out his bloody face. There was a gruesome cut across his head and his face was pale and clammy. Clutching his brother as tightly as he could, Fred disapparated.

He reappeared at the Burrow, sweaty, exhausted and holding the unconscious body of his brother. He got to his feet and, finding that he couldn't support the weight of George, he sprinted inside. With no idea of the time, he burst through the door and ran into the kitchen where his mother was cooking.

"Fred!" she exclaimed when he arrived panting, "Where's George?"

"Out…outside. There was an explosion and he was right in the middle of it."

"He's not-"

"He's fine, just… just unconscious and he has a… a horrible cut on his head," Fred panted.

"Well, everyone's just got back from work, give me a minute to find someone to help," she looked at Fred, "While I'm there, I'll get something for that nasty cut of yours," she vanished from the kitchen, eyes full of concern. Fred hadn't even realised that he was injured, but looking down, he saw a long gash across his chest which was oozing with scarlet blood. She returned a few minutes later closely followed by Bill and Harry.

"Where is he?" Bill asked urgently.

Fred could no longer speak. He was so exhausted and his cut hurt so badly, all he could do was raise a hand and point to the front garden before he collapsed on the floor and darkness invaded his vision.

He woke a few hours later to a horrible stabbing pain in his chest and unclear voices winding into his ears.

"What do you think happened?" asked Angelina's shaking voice.

"I don't know, but when Fred wakes up I'm going to kill him," Ginny's voice replied, which was equally unsteady.

Fred decided to keep his eyes shut.

"Apparently, there was an explosion that George was caught in," Angelina said worriedly. "I heard your mum telling Bill. She said Fred just burst into the kitchen, told her that George was lying outside, injured but alive and then he collapsed too."

"Explosion?" Ginny repeated, "Where were they to get caught in an explosion?"

"No idea. Neither of them told anyone where they were going. They just left." There was a pause in which Angelina sniffled, "Why are you so annoyed at him? He made the Vow to save you and your family. He was being loyal."

"He had no choice," Ginny replied hotly, "He would have died- for real- if he didn't make the promise with Malfoy. He was being a coward and then he ran away."

"Staying away surely meant that he regretted it," Angelina reasoned.

"Staying away meant that he was afraid," Ginny shot back.

"Well, I doubt he would've come back at all if he knew you were going to beat him up like that! It was unfair!"

"Unfair! I'll tell you what's unfair-"

"Who knows how many times you could have died if he hadn't made that Vow?"

"He betrayed everyone!"

"He was loyal to his family! Why does it matter? We won the war anyway!"

"Because now, the stupid Vow's come back to kill us!"

They fell silent for a while and all Fred could hear was their heavy breathing.

"You should go to bed," Angelina said shakily, "You have work in the morning and if you don't go soon, you'll be exhausted."

"I'm fine," Ginny said shortly.

"They'll be ok, Ginny, honestly. Go."

"No. I'm staying," Ginny snapped and silence took over again.

The pain in Fred's chest had been growing steadily worse and he now felt as though someone was continuously stabbing him in the heart with a red-hot poker. It was torture. Torture for all those years he avoided his family when he should have just come home. It was becoming difficult to breathe. The pain was so horrible, it felt as though it was wrapping itself around his lungs and slowly, slowly burning them.

A minute or so later, footsteps began to grow louder before Harry's voice said, "How are they doing?" There was a scraping of wood against wood against wood as a chair was pulled up from somewhere.

"I don't know," Ginny replied, "It's hard to tell."

Fred felt a hand being placed on his forehead, but it was removed quickly as Harry gasped, "He's boiling! Have you got a cold flannel or something? You could fry an egg on Fred's forehead!"

The was a large amount of movement in which Fred heard more scraping of chairs and the running of a tap. Then something refreshingly cool and damp was placed gently onto his forehead. He couldn't help but sigh with relief. The cold cloth that was now sitting on his head was like a blessing from a million angels.

"Have either of you been up to bed yet?" Harry asked.

Ginny mumbled in return.

"Ginny! Go up to bed. You have to be at work tomorrow and you can't turn up looking like a ghost," when Ginny didn't move, he repeated fiercely, "Go!"

"Angelina?"

"No I haven't and I'm not going. I don't have work tomorrow so I don't need to be up early," she replied equally fiercely.

"Fine," Harry replied almost with reluctance, "You know, I almost feel like this is my fault."

"What?" Angelina said loudly. "Why would you think that?"

"If it wasn't for me, then Fred would never have had to make that Vow and he wouldn't have _'died'_. Then Ginny wouldn't have got annoyed at him and he wouldn't have had to go off with George and get themselves blown up!"

"Harry, none of this is your fault," Angelina said soothingly, "It's not your fault that Fred got separated from George and Ginny at the World Cup. It's not your fault that Malfoy decided to threaten Fred and make him accept the Vow. You know Fred, Harry. You practically grew up with him, Ron and George."

"So?" Harry demanded.

"So, you know that he only agreed to make the Vow so he could help keep his family safe. He would have died any other way."

"He almost did," Harry replied miserably.

"But he didn't!"

Fred could feel both Harry and Angelina's eyes fixed on him.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Harry asked. "At Hogwarts. You liked him. You liked him a lot."

There was a horrible silence in which the burning rope tightened around his heart and Fred could only assume that Angelina nodded.

"I married George because he was the best memory I had of Fred. We understood each other, what they were going through. Of course, now, I love George more than anything and we have Roxy and Fred too, I wouldn't have married anyone else."

"They'll be ok, you know," Harry told her, "Both of them. They've faced worse threats. Ginny, for example."

Angelina giggled guiltily.

"Seriously, though- don't worry. Whatever they're planning on doing, they'll be fine," Harry said., "I'm going back to bed if that's ok."

"Yes, go on. I'll be fine," Angelina said kindly.

Once Harry had finally left the room, Fred waited a few minutes before opening his eyes and groaning. He raised a drowsy hand and removed the towel from his head. He tried to sit up but two, freezing hands forced his shoulders back down. He winced at the pain in his chest and moved his hand to cover the gash. Despite his blurred vision, Fred could distinctly see the scarlet blood that now covered his hand.

"Is… is George… is he ok?" Fred stuttered weakly.

"He'll be fine. There's a stubborn cut on his head that's refusing to heal but you have a worse cut on your chest as you've apparently noticed," she explained, although her voice seemed slurred and fuzzy. "Can you remember what happened?" she asked kindly.

"We… we were looking for the source of the storm. We ended up on this weird island just off the coast. There… there were these people there, they were talking about… about… about- I can't remember."

"You can't remember anything at all?" Angelina asked curiously.

Fred shook his head, then regretted it, "But then they started attacking us they used spells I've never seen before. We had to take cover behind trees and boulders. The people, they… they… they blew up the boulder that George was behind."

"Don't worry," Angelina said, picking up the discarded cloth and wiping Fred's forehead with it, "You'll both be fine. You're safe here with us."

"Look after George instead," he told Angelina, forcing her hand away, "I'll be fine in a minute."

Angelina turned to George who was lying on the sofa on the opposite side of the room to Fred. Fred had no idea what he looked like but could guarantee that George looked worse. His pale face had a green tinge to it and the deep gash across his head was seeping blood which was dripping down his clammy face. Fred buried his face in his hands and swore loudly.

"Fred, don't. He chose to come with you and he knew there would be risks. You can't go blaming yourself for this," Angelina said calmly yet strictly, Fred could see why she became a professor at Hogwarts.

Fred lay back down again on the sofa but cried out immediately when a phantom pain stabbed him.

"What's wrong?" Angelina asked, snapping her head towards Fred.

Gasping for breath, he indicated to the gash on his chest.

"I'm sorry we don't have anything to stop the pain or the bleeding!" she said, rushing over to place a long piece of fabric over his wound. She tried to put pressure on it but Fred howled in agony and pushed her away. The aching was constricting his lungs. He couldn't breathe and his already unclear vision was fading slowly. He barely noticed when Angelina forced him to lie back down and he didn't hear the footsteps thundering down from the stairs.

"What's going on?" came Bill's voice.

"Is he ok?" Hermione asked.

"Fred? Fred, can you hear us?"

 _Boom!_

The storm had erupted to life outside.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It seemed that Fred was developing a habit of waking up during private conversations, for when he opened his eyes the next morning, he could only see the back cushion of the sofa and he could hear the voices of his mother and Angelina, deep in conversation.

"What do you think we should do?" Angelina was asking worriedly.

"I'm not sure. If we can't heal them, they'll probably have to move to St. Mungo's," Mrs. Weasley replied.

Fred snapped his eyes shut when the footsteps of his mother grew louder, as she came towards him. He felt her wrinkled hand run through his hair and he carefully moved his own hand up to hold hers.

"Oh, my boy," Mrs. Weasley whispered into his ear, "My sweet, brave, caring boy. What have you got yourself into?"

"I'm sorry, mum," Fred croaked, "I'm so, so sorry."

Mrs. Weasley shushed him and said, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Fred felt like a four-year-old again. Him lying, sick, on his bed while his mother looked after him. Making him soup, tucking him under his covers so he stayed warm in his shivering state. But now, Fred wasn't shivering because he was ill. He was crying.

"It's all my fault, mum," he said quietly, "George is lying over there, unconscious and barely breathing, because of me. It… it reminds me of when… of when he lost his ear when we were moving Harry."

He heard his mum sniffle in his ear, "I almost miss those times. When everything was exciting and adventurous. When you and George were inseparable and always pulling pranks. Why did everything change?"

"But everything can be normal again," Fred said, "But I need to fix what I did all those years ago. I need to do it as soon as I possibly can."

"You aren't going anywhere until the bleeding in your chest has stopped and you have seen your daughter off to Hogwarts! You have a duty as a father."

"And I also have a duty as a son and a brother. And I've been your son and George's brother longer than I've been Molly's father."

She let go of his hand and walked away. He turned over to face his brother and Angelina who was staring intently at him.

"How's he doing?" Fred asked her.

"I think he's getting better, but I can't stop his wound bleeding. It's driving me mad."

"You should go and get some rest," Fred told her, "I'll stay with him for a while and you get some sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Kissing George on the cheek as she left, Angelina got up and walked across the room. As soon as she'd left, Fred forced himself up and stumble across the room to sit on the chair next to George.

"George, I'm sorry," he said, taking his brother's limp hand, "I'm so, so sorry."

George's hand twitched slightly.

"Please, will you just be ok? Just wake up now and show me that if you can get better, then I can make everything else better."

George's head moved slightly and, without opening his eyes, he said, "To be honest, mate, I'd be a tad disappointed if you didn't fix it."

"And why's that?"

"Because I just got blown up for you."

Fred smiled sadly, "I wish we'd never gone to that island."

"We had to," George replied, his eyes still closed. "Whoever those people were, they used spells we've never seen before. They're not good guys; we just need to find out what they're doing and why."

For a few minutes, they listened to the thunder booming outside, it seemed so much louder and more violent than usual. Thinking that his brother had fallen asleep again, Fred began to haul himself out of the wooden chair but just as he was about to return to his sofa, George asked, "Why does my head feel like it's slowly being burned apart with molten lava?"

"I think you must have got hit by one of those new spells the people on the island were using," Fred replied, "I've got a cut on my chest and you have one right across your head. No one can stop them bleeding."

"Do I look like Harry, with a scar on my forehead?"

"Well if you ignore the fact that he's short, scrawny, dark-haired and has glasses, then yes, you look exactly like Harry."

"Close enough."

That second, Mrs. Weasley hustled back into the living room holding a tray stacked full of toast, cereal and tea.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked Fred, placing the tray on the coffee table.

"Talking."

"Have you got any better?" she demanded, hurrying over to help Fred back over to the sofa.

"It feels like I'm being attacked my billions of tiny, red-hot pokers."

She handed him a plate of toast and rushed over to George's side. "How are you feeling?" she asked him kindly placing her hand on his forehead, next to the cut.

"My brain feels as though it's being roasted in the world's slowest, yet hottest oven," George said opening his eyes slightly.

"Both of you have dangerously high temperatures," she said placing a mug of steaming tea next to George.

"I'm fine, mum. Honestly, I am," Fred said, trying desperately to ignore the agony as he stood up.

"You don't look it. Sit down," Mrs. Weasley told him sharply, "Now, later this morning I'm going to drop in at your house on the way to Diagon Alley. I'll tell Katherine and Molly where you are and invite them to come over and stay for a while. I suppose they could stay until the end of the holidays, that would be nice, wouldn't it? I thought I told you to sit down!"

She said all of this without taking a single breath which Fred found rather impressive, but he didn't return to the sofa, he walked through to the kitchen and stood staring out the window. Even though the thunder had stopped the rain still continued to batter the windows.

"Excuse me!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, "You are not well enough to be-"

"Mum, I appreciate your care and attention, but I'm old enough to run my own life. Is everyone at work?"

"Angelina's upstairs in bed, Teddy's outside with the kids and everyone else has gone. Minerva said she'd come by later today with Poppy to see what she can do about you and your brother."

"I told you that I'm ok."

"Whether you're ok or not, George definitely isn't."

"Fine, Madam Pomfrey can come and make George better."

"She's going to check you over too," Mrs. Weasley said sternly and something in her tone told Fred he had no choice but to agree with her.

"Fine. When are they coming?"

"Later this morning. I think Hagrid's coming too, Minerva said that he was desperate to see you."

"Is Ginny still annoyed at me?"

"She's livid. Didn't stop ranting all morning. Although, I think she's just stressed. She wants you both to be alright- she broke apart twenty years ago and now it turns out that we were all mourning for nothing."

"Don't make me feel worse, mum. Ginny's acting as though she'd rather I stayed away!"

"I'm sure she's glad really."

"Don't lie mum. I know part of all of you wish I hadn't come back, because now we're all in danger."

"Don't be ridiculous! It reminds me of when you were at Hogwarts – that was all one big adventure and I loved all of it. Well, except from the fact my son almost died. It's a brand-new adventure for us all."

"Let's just hope everything works out on our side again."

"Of course it will. You didn't let us down two decades ago and you're not going to let us down again. Now, please will you go and get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Even if it's just a slice or two of toast, Fred. You need to eat something."

"I said I'm not hungry!" Fred snapped as he spun around to face his mother who looked slightly hurt.

"Please. I'm not leaving until I've seen you eat something."

"Well you're going to be here a while. Just go, mum. Tell Kat and Molly what's happened and find a way to get them here safely with all of Molly's school stuff. Then go to Diagon Alley and do whatever you need to do there."

Reluctantly, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and returned to the living room where he could hear her convincing George to have some breakfast. He wondered after her slowly wincing as he went. When he'd sat back down on the sofa, Mrs. Weasley said, "I want both of you to get some rest before everyone else arrives. Angelina's upstairs and Teddy's in the garden if you need anything. Charlie's not at home, he went out to help Ron in the joke shop. And you," she pointed at Fred, "eat." And then she disapparated, leaving the twins alone in the living room.

Groaning, George rolled over to face his brother who was sitting on the edge of the settee, staring out the window.

"I wish you'd stop blaming yourself for what happened," George said, "I agreed to come with you."

"But if I hadn't asked-"

"You might have died on that island or got seriously injured and not be able to get back here," George said, "It's not your fault."

George raised a hand and placed it over the cut on his head. "Why won't it stop?" His voice was full of irritation.

"Madam Pomfrey is coming over later this morning, she'll be able to fix you up."

The only sound in the room was the rhythmic beat of the droplets on the windows outside. A small while later, George began to snore softly and Fred dropped back to lie on the sofa. He couldn't ignore the suffering in his chest but the chaotic events and early morning of the last few days began to overpower him and he found himself drifting off into an uneasy and restless sleep.

He woke again a few hours later to hear voices winding into his ears from the kitchen.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for them. I highly doubt their injuries will be fatal if the bleeding can be stopped but I've never seen anything like it before! The gashes are so deep and seem to be infected by something that I simply can't fix. I don't have the knowledge or the power," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice tinged with worry and regret.

Fred opened his eyes slightly and looked across the room at George who was also wide-eyed and listening intently.

"They'll be ok, though won't they?" Angelina said.

"If we can get them the right help, yes. Although George is in a lot more danger, with a deeper cut to the head, I don't want to know the damage it could cause to the brain. I can only hope that I've prevented the infection from going too far."

"So Fred's definitely going to recover?" Angelina asked.

"There is no definite. Fred's wound is larger than his brother's and even though it doesn't go as deep, it's dangerously close to his heart and lungs. I can't say for sure what'll happen if the infection reaches his heart or George's brain.

"I'm sorry. I've done all I can."

"You've been amazing," McGonagall comforted, "You may have just saved their lives."

"But their temperatures are so high and those cuts just won't stop bleeding. It won't be long before neither of them has any blood left."

"Don't you go sayin' that. Yeh've done everythin' you can and until we hear back from St Mungo's," Fred cursed under his breath- the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a hospital for the rest of the summer, "there ain't nothin' more we can do," said a gruff voice that Fred couldn't help smiling at. Hagrid had come to the Burrow to see him.

The kitchen fell completely soundless and Fred and George shared an exasperated and irritated look then both snapped their eyes shut as several sets of footsteps came towards them but before anyone said anything, the front door squeaked open and then slammed close again.

"I just heard from Molly!" Lee Jordan's voice erupted into the room, "Are they alright?"

No one answered. All that could be heard was Lee's heavy breathing. "They're ok, aren't they?"

"'Course they are," Hagrid said, sounding as though he was convincing not only Lee, but himself too, "You know these two, they'll be up and running about before you know it."

"What's wrong with them? What happened?"

"We don't know. They arrived back last night injured and exhausted, they'd been out looking for something for the previous few days. We don't know where they were exactly and we haven't asked yet but they got these strange cuts. We can't heal them, stop the infection or even stop them bleeding," Angelina tried to explain.

"Will it kill them?"

"Not if we can get them the right care as soon as possible."

Fred felt the sofa sagged as Lee sat on the edge of it. Fred nudged him gently with his foot to tell him that he was awake and soon felt Lee pat his leg in response.

"What are you going to do to help them?"

"We've contacted St Mungo's and they said they'll get back to us, hopefully, the healers there can fix them up fairly easily and quickly," McGonagall replied.

"I have to admit, when I picture being reunited with both of the twins together after twenty years when George sent me that letter, I didn't expect them to be lying unconscious on the sofa," Lee said sadly and Fred nudged him with his foot again.

Fred was fighting the urge to get up and join in the conversation, the last thing he wanted was to go to St Mungo's. He wanted to sort out the mess he'd made; to stop the Vow killing all his family. After a few more minutes of his friends talking about _'how awful his condition was',_ Fred couldn't take it anymore. He forced a groan that contained as much pain and emotion as he could muster and brought his hand up to wipe his sweaty brow. His eyes flicked open and not even one second later, he was engulfed in a hug from Lee.

"I couldn't believe it when George sent me that owl. I thought it was a prank! I was going to come over on Saturday to see if he was telling the truth and then I saw your mum on Diagon Alley and she said you and George had been injured so I had to come as soon as I could."

"Ow, Lee. I can't breathe. Lee, you're squashing me! LEE!"

Finally getting the message, Lee let go of Fred and, beaming like crazy. A large, strong hand patted- or rather smacked- him on the back and Hagrid said, "I don't believe it. I jus' don't believe it," In his attempt to give Fred a _welcoming_ hug, Hagrid lifted Fred off the sofa and into the air.

"No, Hagrid! Ow! Ow!"

"I'm sorry, I'm jus' so happy you're alive!" he said without letting go of Fred.

"Hagrid, please put him down before you make his injury worse." Madam Pomfrey said strictly and Hagrid carelessly dropped Fred onto the settee where he lay moaning. Laughter suddenly filled Fred's ringing ears and he turned his head to look at George.

"Really? You think this is funny?" Fred demanded, also laughing.

"Oh, yeah. It's hilarious," George replied as his twin sat up and flicked his hair out of his face. George heaved himself up, grinning. "Something the matter, brother, dear?" he chuckled.

"Well, you seem to be finding the fact I'm in extreme pain, to be entertaining and funny."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I'll make sure that you are as comfortable and relaxed as possible before I laugh at you in future."

"Thank you very much for your consideration. I'll be going now," Fred said and, still sniggering immaturely, perched on the arm of the sofa. Determined not to let everyone know how bad the discomfort in his chest actually was, he smiled at Lee who was rolling around laughing uncontrollably.

"You two seem much better," Angelina said happily sitting down next to George and kissing him on the cheek.

"Definitely. All it takes is your bones being crushed by two people you haven't seen in decades and you're good as new!" Fred said sarcastically.

Madam Pomfrey hurried across the room and pushed Fred back on to the main part of the sofa with a surprising amount of aggression.

"Hey! What was that for?" Fred demanded, straightening up.

"You need rest, not to be running around the place like a three-year-old!

"You don't even know what's wrong with me so you can't go telling me what I can and can't do!" Fred protested, "Anyway, I've done nothing but rest since I got here!"

"Are you a trained healer?" Madam Pomfrey snapped and then, without waiting for a reply, "Exactly, so be quiet and let me help you."

Fred sighed and sealed his mouth, allowing Madam Pomfrey to examine him, which included her checking his temperature- Fred felt like she was about the tenth person to do so in the last twelve hours- and her staring intently at the scar on his chest. Tutting, she moved across the room and did the same to George.

"They seem to be perfectly fine except extraordinarily high temperatures and those horrible cuts," she reported. "I don't understand it!"

"We're fine, aren't we, George?"

"Absolutely brilliant," George, who also seemed determined not to go to St Mungo's anytime soon, replied.

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey's attempts to keep him sitting calmly on the settee, Fred got up again and walked across the room. "I can't stay locked up here. Not when I've got everything else to fix," he said staring out the window. "I need to get out!"

"You aren't going anywhere until you're completely healed!" Madam Pomfrey said.

"By that time, the rest of the family could be dead!" Fred retorted angrily.

"Fred's right," George said, "We need-"

"We?" repeated Fred turning around to face his brother. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not letting you go out anywhere without me," George said simply.

"But-"

"Fred, I'm coming with you."

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" Lee asked. "In case you hadn't noticed, I still have no idea how you survived or what on earth you're talking about."

"Neither do I," Hagrid added.

So Fred explained for the fourth time. How he survived, what he'd been doing for the last twenty years and all about the Vow. He left Lee and Hagrid, pale -aced and open-mouthed, completely in shock.

"No way!" Lee's voice was awestruck and amazed.

"I can' believe it," Hagrid said, "Blimey, that's jus'-"

"Ridiculous. Stupid. Cowardly. I've heard it Hagrid, I know I shouldn't have done it," Fred said, ashamed, "That's why I need to fix it."

"I have told you already, Mr. Weasley that you're not going anywhere!" Madam Pomfrey shouted angrily.

"We aren't Hogwarts students anymore! We don't need to listen to your advice now."

"You may not be students, but you're still my patients," Madam Pomfrey snapped and she bustled over to Fred, took him vigorously by the shoulders and steered him to the sofa. She roughly pushed Lee out the way and forced Fred onto the settee. She then piloted everyone else out the room, flicked off the lights and told Fred and George that they needed rest and that she'd check back on them in a few hours. The second she'd closed the door, Fred got up and began to pace the room.

"Sit down," George said, "You're making me dizzy."

Fred stormed over to the sofa and began rocking and forward. His blood-soaked shirt was sticking to his chest and was becoming nearly as uncomfortable as the gash itself. After trying so hard to ignore the events of the island, Fred found himself thinking of nothing but the attack. He lay back staring at the ceiling and didn't move or speak for hours.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When the door opened and Madam Pomfrey came in. She came over to Fred and held out a glass to him.

"What is it?" he asked looking at the potion.

"Something I'm hoping will help you."

"Help me what?"

"Dance upside down on the ceiling," Madam Pomfrey replied sharply, "Heal you, of course, what else would it do?"

Fred forced the drink back into her hand, "I don't want it."

"Trust me, it'll help."

"You don't know that for sure."

"If you don't drink it now, I'll have to force you too," she said holding out the drink, "Don't you want to be healed?"

"Yes, I do, but I'm not a guinea pig, you can't just test out random potions on me and hope that they work."

"Please just drink it."

Fred paused, "Are you sure it'll help?"

"I'm not sure of anything, I can only hope."

"Just drink it, Fred," George said from across the room, "She's trying to help."

Fred glared at him as Madam Pomfrey said, "I have a glass for you too. Perhaps you'll be more willing to drink it than your brother is," she handed him the glass and George drank it in one go. "Any better?" she asked, taking the glass back from him. George shook his head.

"I feel exactly the same as I did before, if not worse."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and muttering annoyedly to herself, she left the room holding the two glasses.

Fred looked at his brother who was smirking, "Did it actually make you any worse?" he asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not, I just wanted to get her to leave."

"What did it actually do?"

"Nothing at all."

They laughed and sat up. "I want to get out of here," Fred said, "Tonight."

"Why not now?" George asked.

"Because mum said that she was going to find a way to get Molly and Kat to come over and I want to speak to them. I also don't want them to worry when I go off for a while."

"Where will you go?"

"I think I'll start off by back to the island and see if I can find anything there."

"I'm coming too," George said.

"You're joking, right? I'm not letting you come with me! I'd hate myself forever if something happened to you!"

"Something already has happened, Fred. Besides, what if something happens to you? Who'll be there to help?"

With a bang as the door flew open, Lee burst into the room, "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Lee, it's nothing," Fred replied quickly, rather taken aback by the sudden appearance of his friend. "We just want some fresh air, that's all."

"You're going back to that weird island, aren't you?"

Neither Fred or George replied. Lee looked appalled, "You can't!" he cried. "You could be killed!"

"Come with us, Lee," George said suddenly, "It'll be so much better, the three of us together."

"I really don't think you should go at all," Lee said, "it's too dangerous."

"Lee, we have to. We think that island holds the key to stopping the Vow."

"At least wait for the holidays to finish. You said you wanted to see Molly off to school."

"You think we're going to stay here and let our mother boss us around and allow Madam Pomfrey to force us to take ridiculous potions while we sit back, listening to everyone else talk about what's going to happen? The only way we find out anything is by listening in to private conversations and pretending to be asleep! It's torture, Lee! We want to be doing something helpful!"

Lee put his head in his hands and stared at the floor. "I suppose, it'll be fun. All three of us back together after twenty years," he looked up, smiling.

"We're planning on leaving tonight once I've had the chance to talk to Molly and Kat," Fred explained, "It'll have to be quite late when everyone's in bed so we can sneak out without anyone hearing us."

"I'll come down when I know everyone's gone to bed," Lee proposed.

"Where are you staying?"

"In Bill's room. Him, Fleur, Victoire, Dominique and Louis are all going back to Shell Cottage after dinner so I was going to sleep there. I think Charlie's going back to Romania tonight as well, he said he'd missed too much work as it was and needed to go back."

"We're going to have to be really quick, and really quiet if we want to make sure no one hears us getting up and leaving," George said, "And we'll have to walk a little while away from the Burrow before we disapparate so nobody hears the crack."

"Unless we time it to a thunder clap," Fred suggested.

"You're joking, right? That'd be way too difficult. If we were even half a second ahead or behind, it wouldn't sound real. It would be better to walk for a while and then disapparate," George replied.

Before they could discuss their plans for the next morning any further, Madam Pomfrey as hurried in, and told Lee to leave.

"See you later," George said, rolling his eyes.

"Bye, Lee," Fred sighed, exasperated as his friend left the room. He looked at his brother, "I wish she'd let people stay in here for more than thirty seconds," he said, "I'm getting bored of having to talk to you all the time."

"Thanks very much."

"After twenty years without seeing any of you, I was so excited to finally be reunited with everyone again, but I never expected to be kept inside all day. She doesn't seem to realise that we can still move around!"

"I don't know, Fred. I think I've forgotten how to move my little finger," George said sarcastically. "I can't wait for this afternoon to end so we can get out of here."

"Agreed."

 _Crack._

Fred and George shot to their feet and, as quickly as they could, they sped out the room and into the kitchen where Angelina was standing, squinting out the window and through the rain.

"What was that?" Fred asked.

The kitchen door burst open and Mrs. Weasley walked in, swiftly followed by Molly, Kat and Willow the puppy. Mrs. Weasley, with a disapproving look at her sons, left the room. The second she saw her husband, Kat ran up to Fred and wrapped him in a hug and Willow yapped excitedly.

"I was so worried," Kat breathed in his ear, "I didn't hear from you in over a day- no texts, no calls, nothing. I almost went to the police."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered back, suddenly noticing that he hadn't seen his phone in at least a day. Releasing her from the embrace but still holding her at arm's length, not wanting to let her go. Her blue eyes met his chocolate brown ones, before drooping down to the cut on his chest and she bit her lip as if trying to hold back tears.

"Can they be healed?" she asked, looking at the similar gash on George's head.

"We don't know," Fred replied solemnly, turning his head away from his wife. He smiled at Molly whose grin had faded slightly into a look of horror at her dad's injury. "I'm fine, Mol," Fred told her, "Honestly, I am."

Although she didn't look convinced, Molly forced a smile.

"Have you got all your school stuff?" he asked her.

She placed a hand in her pocket and removed a small, purple bag from it. "Grandma gave it to me to borrow. She said it's Auntie Hermione's but I could use it to bring everything here quickly. It's brilliant!" she said happily.

"I want both of you to stay here with everyone else."

"Where are you going?" Kat asked him suspiciously.

"George, Lee and I are going away for a day or two. I promise we won't be away long, it's just to get out of the house for a while."

Kat, Angelina and Molly looked very uncomfortable at the idea of the boys leaving but none of them said anything. The five of them and Willow headed out into the tent in the back garden where they stayed for the rest of day, ignoring Madam Pomfrey who pestered them constantly and the irritated glances from their mother.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Neither Fred nor George ate anything at dinner, as neither of them had the appetite. They sat at the dinner table inside, cracked jokes and laughed. Everything felt so normal; it reminded Fred of when he was at Hogwarts, and he and George always pulled pranks and made everyone laugh. They had the same sense of humour and always seemed to know exactly what the other was going to say.

After dinner, Bill, Fleur, Dominique, Louis and Victoire all left, swiftly followed by Charlie, Percy, Audrey, Lucy and Molly. About an hour later, Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall and Hagrid also retired, promising to return in a few days. When they had left, everyone returned to the living room where they discussed plans for the next day. As the Ministry had been flooded that evening- they had received an owl, explaining that the damage was awful and that once the storm had ended, everyone would be expected to help clear up, everyone but Ron had no need to go to work. They all watched Willow who was happily lying in front of the fire, enjoying the company of everyone.

"We could go up to the Quidditch pitch," Harry suggested, "We can teach Molly and see where she'd play best."

"That's a great idea," Mrs. Weasley said, "Do you have a broomstick, dear?" she asked Molly kindly.

"Yes, but I've never ridden before," Molly replied a little sheepishly.

"Don't worry," Angelina said kindly, "I'm sure you'll be fine. You can't be any worse than your dad- when he first got on a broom, he flew a few metres up into the air and then fell off."

"May I remind you that I then proceeded to play for Gryffindor for about five years?" Fred said, "Besides, in our first lesson, you were too scared to even get on the broom," he paused, "And I only fell off because George threw a quaffle at my head."

"You threw it at me first!"

"You didn't have to throw it back!"

"What's a quaffle?" Molly asked.

"It's one of the balls used in Quidditch," Angelina explained.

"If we had Alicia, Oliver and Katie, we'd be able to have the old team playing," Harry said

"Well I could play as a chaser," Ginny said.

"We'd still need another chaser and a keeper," Harry said.

"Well, you never know what Molly might be able to do," Fred said, winking at his daughter and sharing a look with his brother, knowing that they would also be missing two beaters from their team.

"I play Keeper at school," said James, proudly.

"We'll all have a go at what we want to play," Harry said, "But we'll all have to be prepared to get a bit wet and muddy."

"That makes it even more fun!" Ginny said.

"You'd think otherwise if you had to train every morning for three years outside in the freezing rain with Oliver Wood shouting at you," Harry reasoned.

"Well we won't have Oliver yelling at us because Oliver isn't here."

"It's getting quite late," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "If you all want to go and play Quidditch tomorrow, you'll have to have some energy for it."

So, as Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, Lily, Fred, Roxanne and Teddy all returned to their slightly less crowded tent, Molly turned to Fred.

"Do you want to go out and stay with everyone else in the tent?" he asked her. "I'll introduce you to everyone if you'd like."

"It's fine, don't worry, I know them well enough," Molly said and as she hurried to catch up with Lily, Rose and Roxanne, who were waiting for her at the door.

Everyone else returned to their rooms, with Kat staying in Charlie's room and Lee going to Bill's. Fred and George stayed in the living room and sat down on the sofas opposite each other.

"It would have been nice to play Quidditch with everyone," George said sadly as Fred nodded with agreement.

Willow, who had been dozing next to the blazing fire, got up and plodded over to Fred, where she leapt onto the sofa and rested her head on his legs. Fred reached down and stroked her gently.

"Well, it's too late now, we have to go tonight- we don't know when McGonagall will come back with Madam Pomfrey," Fred said regretfully.

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait for Lee to come down and go," George said.

About an hour later, Lee finally emerged in the doorway, yawning loudly.

"You took your time," Fred said quietly.

"I was waiting to make sure everyone was asleep. It took ages for Hermione and Ron to stop talking next door," Lee whispered back.

"What time is it?" George asked.

"Not sure, it has to be before midnight because the storm hasn't started yet," Lee replied.

"Let's just go now. The sooner we leave, the more we can find out." Fred whispered as he stood up, causing Willow to growl, irritated.

The three of them tip-toed across the house, shooing away Willow who was persistently following them. When they reached the front door and eased it open, Willow began to bark. Panic began to drown Fred.

"No, Willow! Be quiet, please!"

There was movement from upstairs as the Weasley's began to stir, but Willow didn't stop barking.

"What do we do?" Lee cried. "There's no point leaving now, they'll easily catch us."

"We could disapparate. No one but us knows where the island is exactly," George suggested, raising a hand to his head. "I wish your dog would shut up, she's giving me a headache."

"You already had a headache," Fred pointed out.

"Oh yeah."

"Guys, are we staying, or going?" Lee demanded.

"Let's just stay," George said, lowering his voice, "It'll be nice to play Quidditch with everyone tomorrow."

Leaving Willow barking at the door, the twins and their best friend returned to the living room, where they sat together, looking confused.

"Why doesn't she stop?" Fred wondered. "We aren't anywhere near the door anymore."

People began to emerge from the stairs, their eyes puffy and faces pale.

"What's going on?" yawned Ginny, peering around the room and thankfully missing the rather curious fact that Lee sat with Fred and George, fully dressed.

"We don't know," Fred replied honestly, "Willow just started barking at the door. She won't stop!"

Within a minute, the dimly lit room was full of people, all wrapped in their dressing gowns. Kat and Fred both tried desperately to call Willow off, but she remained standing at the door, yapping consistently. George sat holding his pounding head in his hands, Angelina next to him.

After the world's longest ten minutes, Willow finally seemed satisfied that the front door had been sufficiently told off and padded back into the lounge quite calmly, where she sat next to Kat and curled up.

"What just happened?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"I've got no idea," Fred replied, astounded, "She's never done that before."

Kat, who had bent down to stroke her puppy, suddenly stood up straight, eyes wide, "She has. She does it every time someone she doesn't like, someone who seems shifty, untrustworthy, comes anywhere near her."

Gulping awkwardly, Fred asked, "What do you mean?"

"Willow hates it when anyone who she doesn't like comes anywhere near her. She barks at them and growls until they go away."

"Kat, what are you saying?"

"If she only barks when someone-"

Ginny suddenly looked wide awake, "The kids!" she yelled suddenly and bolted across the room. When she reached the door, she looked back at the confused expressions on everyone's faces, "If there was someone outside the house, they could have gone near the tent!" and she vanished from the doorway, quicker than you could say _'intruder'_.

Angelina and Hermione got up and ran after her, swiftly followed by Fred, Kat and Mrs. Weasley. They sprinted across the garden and pulled back the entrance to the tent. Teddy stood protectively in front of the others, arms raised, wand ready. Everyone else was cowering behind him, fright etched onto their faces. When Fred entered the tent with the other adults, Molly rushed forwards and buried herself in his open arms. Ginny ran towards James, Lily and Albus and wrapped them in a hug. When she let go, Lily was crying, James still looked terrified and Albus just looked bored now that there was no threat.

"What happened?" Angelina asked as she too embraced her children lovingly.

Teddy, who had dropped his hands to his side replied, "We'd just turned the lights off to go to sleep when we heard the garden gate squeaking open. To begin with, we all decided it must have just been the wind, but then we saw a silhouette of someone against the canvas. It was a humanoid shape, but it didn't walk, it glided and its face was pointy and weird looking. Something was barking from inside and it was scared off. It stood outside the tent for a while, as though deciding whether or not to come in and then vanished."

Nobody could speak. They were just too astounded.

"I want to stay inside tonight," Lily said into the silence. "Please, mummy," she looked up at Ginny. "Can I sleep inside?"

"I want to go in too," Roxanne said, "I don't like it out here anymore."

"I want to go too," said Hugo, who was still hiding in Hermione's trembling arms.

"Let's all go in and have a nice hot chocolate to calm down," Fred suggested, taking hold of Molly's hand.

Together, everyone returned to the living room and sat down in front of the fire. Mrs. Weasley conjured up hot chocolates, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. No one spoke as they slurped their warm drinks. No one spoke when they'd all finished. No one spoke when Mrs. Weasley had caused the empty mugs to vanish. The only commotion was when the thunder began at midnight and Roxanne and Lily both burst into tears.

One by one, everyone drifted off to sleep. Only Fred stayed awake. He felt as though he'd never need to sleep again as he sat on the floor beside George, who 's head was resting on his shoulder. He stared out the window at the falling rain and the lightning bolt which appeared every minute. A perfect shape. If only he'd managed to escape- the storm might not have started if he'd left the house with Lee and George. But instead, he had to sit, listening to the gentle snores and heavy breathing of everyone around him until finally, his head drooped backwards to rest on the sofa behind and his eyes closed.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The next morning, Fred woke to the heavenly scent of bacon wafting up his nose. His head, which had been slumped back against the sofa cushions, jerked up. George, who had been lying against his brother, also whipped awake. Rubbing his eyes, Fred eased himself into a more comfortable position. Most others still seemed to be asleep. Willow's head rested in Fred's lap. Kat lay on the settee behind him, Molly curled up in her arms. On the other sofa, Harry, Ginny and Hermione were all squashed together, still fast asleep on each other's shoulders. Angelina was slumped on the large armchair with Fred and Roxanne on her knees. James, Lily, Hugo and Rose were all curled beside the fire but Albus was sitting up, staring into the blazing flames, his knees tucked up to his chest, arms folded across them. Lee was leaning against George who was trying to push him off. Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room holding a large plate of bacon sandwiches which she placed on the table.

"Help yourself," she said. "We've got plenty."

George lunged forward to take one, causing Lee to fall and whack his head off the wooden floor. He sat up rubbing his forehead before also leaning forward to take a sandwich. However, Fred didn't move for some breakfast, he simply sat, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. As Albus got up to grab some food, Mrs. Weasley said, "Fred, dear, are you going to eat something?"

"I'm not hungry," Fred replied quietly. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and helped herself to a sandwich.

"Has Ron already gone to work?" George asked through a mouthful of bacon.

"Yes, your father's gone with him to help out- apparently yesterday, everyone was asking where the pair of you were. The word has definitely got around quickly that you're alive, Fred, dear."

"Great. That's exactly what I need," Fred said sarcastically ignoring his mother who was trying desperately to hand him some breakfast.

"With any luck, we'll both be able to get back soon," George said happily, but Fred said nothing. "You are going to come back aren't you? I mean, it's our shop, Fred. We brought it, we made it what it is!"

"Of course I'll come back," Fred said. "It's just that, everyone's going to want to know how I survived and what happened, but I can't tell them. It'd be bad for business because everyone'd hate me."

"It's impossible to hate you," Lee said, "Either of you. You were the most popular and well-known people in Hogwarts!" he lowered his voice so Albus wouldn't hear, "Even the Slytherins liked you."

"Exactly, and who cares about the business. All we care about at the moment is that you're alive," George said, smiling.

"But the shop's doing so well, I'd hate to ruin it."

"You're kidding, right? We've earnt more money in the last twenty odd years than we even thought existed!"

"You'll be welcomed back like a hero."

"I suppose it'll be more fun than working in an office," Fred beamed.

A few hours later, after Fred had quickly apparated home to grab his broomstick and then back to the Burrow, he headed up the muddy hill with everyone but Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Rose and Albus. The girls were all preparing a Sunday roast for dinner and Albus, who hated Quidditch, decided that he wanted to remain in the tent to do 'homework'. There were fourteen of them, which would have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that Kat was a Muggle so couldn't play.

They swung open the gate to the enclosed pitch and filed in. Tall trees surrounded the area, so nobody could be seen flying around by passing Muggles. Three tall hoops stood at either end of the pitch and a large box had been placed next to the gate. Harry turned to Molly and quickly taught her how to mount her broom properly and the correct way to hold onto it, while everyone else did a few laps of the pitch to warm up with Kat standing watching. Once Molly was sitting on her broom properly, she kicked off the ground and flew up into the air. After the basics of turning, landing and speed, everyone returned to the back of the pitch where Fred explained the rules.

"Now," he said opening the box, "these are the four balls used to play Quidditch." He removed a large, red ball from the box and showed it to her, "This is a quaffle. There are three Chasers on each team who pass the ball to each other and try to get it through one of their hoops and past the Keepers- they guard the hoops- to score ten points. Yes?"

Molly nodded as Fred continued, "These are bludgers," he indicated to the black balls which were strapped into the box. "They fly around the pitch in an attempt to knock players off their brooms, so the Beaters chase after them to try and divert the bludgers from their team, and send it towards the opposition."

Molly nodded again as Fred finished, "Finally, this is the snitch," he pointed to the tiny golden ball in the box. "This zooms around the pitch and it's the Seeker's job to catch it. Whichever team's Seeker catches the snitch first gives their team a hundred and fifty points and stops the game."

"So the team that catches the snitch isn't guaranteed to win?"

"No. Not if the other team has over one hundred and fifty points more than them. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Great. Shall we separate into teams then? What would you like to try first?" Harry said kindly to Molly. "You can have a chance at everything if you'd like to but obviously not at the same time."

"I don't mind," Molly said, "If everyone else decides first, I'll slot in where ever there's a space."

"Ok then, so we can have me and George as Beaters on one team with James as the Keeper, Hugo as the Seeker and Lee, Ginny and little Fred as the chasers," Fred suggested.

"So on ours, we'll have Harry as the Seeker, Roxy as Keeper, me and Molly as Chasers and Teddy and Lily as Beaters," Angelina said.

"I'll be ref instead of a chaser so the teams are equal," Lee proposed, "I'm not the best Quidditch player in the world anyway."

Everyone mounted their brooms and took their positions in the air.

"The game starts when the referee throws the quaffle into the air, then the bludgers and the snitch are released," Harry explained to Molly. "Remember, your job is to get the quaffle across the pitch, past James and through the hoops. Don't worry about anything else."

Molly, who was gripping her broom tightly, nodded and gulped as Harry shouted to Lee, "Right, I think we're ready."

Lee threw the quaffle as high up into the air as he could. Molly, Angelina, Fred jnr. and Ginny all raced forward to try and catch it as the quaffles and snitch broke free from the box. Hugo and Harry flew high up above everyone else, eyes squinted in search for the snitch. Ginny tried to pass the quaffle to Fred jnr. but Angelina whizzed in and intercepted. A bludger came bolting towards Molly, but at the last minute, Teddy batted it away towards Ginny who was chasing after Angelina. She threw the quaffle to Molly who caught it, dodged around Fred jnr. and flew towards the hoops where James hovered.

"Try and get it in!" Angelina encouraged from behind as she ducked away from a bludger which George had hit towards her. "Do you mind not trying to decapitate me?" she cried at her husband.

Molly held the ball under her arm. "I'll never get it in!"

"Give it a shot!" Teddy shouted, "You never know what might happen!"

So, Molly hauled the ball at the hoops. She missed, but only because James had pulled off a rather spectacular move which blocked the quaffle with the end of his broom.

"That was really close!" Angelina said as she flew over to talk to Molly.

The two of them split apart as a bludger flew towards them. Ginny, who had the quaffle tucked under her arm, whizzed past them and threw it to Fred jnr. Angelina and Molly, who was still a little unsteady on her broom, chased after them. As Fred jnr. raised his arm to throw the quaffle back to Ginny, a bludger hit him in the back. Letting go of the quaffle to steady himself, he wobbled slightly. Angelina dived and caught the quaffle just a few metres from the grass. She chucked it up to Molly who immediately began to stream down the pitch, Angelina close behind her.

"You do it this time!" she called, passing the quaffle to her aunt and ducking a bludger that Fred had sent whizzing towards her.

Angelina took the ball and aimed it at the left-hand hoop. It soared passed James and went straight through the middle. Lee blew his whistle and called, "That's ten-nil! Do you want to switch positions?"

So, Molly switched with Lily and became a beater. She held the bat in one hand and gripped her broom tightly with the other so as not to fall off. Lee threw the quaffle into the air and the bludgers became zooming around the pitch wildly. When one suddenly changed course and went whizzing towards Angelina, Molly went down into a steep dive and whacked the bludger away just in time. It sped towards Hugo who was hovering above them a few metres away.

"Good shot!" Angelina called, impressed. "You've got a good aim."

Lily passed her the ball and Angelina flew off towards the hoops. Molly heard a faint buzzing sound and turned her broom around quickly. A bludger was zipping towards her. She raised her bat and, with as much force as she could, hit the bludger in the opposite direction. It zoomed towards the other end of the pitch and went straight through the middle hoop. James, who had been guarding the other hoop against Lily's attempt at a goal stopped and got a face full of quaffle. Lily threw the quaffle through the hoops twice without anyone noticing. Everyone turned to Molly in amazement and Fred moved towards her, grinning.

"That," he said, "was brilliant."

"I didn't mean for it to go through the hoop," Molly said, "I just didn't want a broken nose."

"I told you, you had good aim," Angelina said flying over too, also beaming.

"Just you wait until you're old enough to try out for your house at school. I'll bet anything that they'll let you be a Beater," Fred told her.

Together, everyone packed up the balls, bats and whistle and began to make their way back down to the Burrow. The sky above them rumbled, but no thunder sounded. Just as they were reaching the bottom of the hill, rain exploded from the clouds and began to shower them. The horror of last night had faded into silly nightmares, everyone was in such a good mood after Quidditch, that they didn't give the creature a thought all morning. Fred and George even forgot about the excessive amounts of bandages they had wrapped around their wounds until Mrs. Weasley hurried towards them and passed them fresh rolls of dressing to put on.

The Burrow smelled like paradise and it didn't take long for Fred to find out why.

"Every Sunday, mum makes a roast chicken by hand without any magic. Everyone comes over for dinner. It's great," George explained.

Everyone huddled in the living room and chatted excitedly about the morning's Quidditch practice.

"She's a brilliant Beater," Ginny, who despite her annoyance at Fred, seemed to have no problem at all with his daughter, told Hermione in amazement.

"I've never seen anything like it. She hit the bludger straight through the hoop from the other end of the pitch!" Harry said, also astonished.

"It was an accident," Molly reasoned, "I just wanted to hit it away from me, I didn't realise it would go through the hoop, and it's not like in a real match it would have scored any points."

"But with an aim like that, you could get half the opposition of their brooms, quicker than you can say 'Beater'," George said.

Fred, as stunned as he was by his daughter's performance, wasn't thinking about Quidditch. His mind was now fixed on what had attacked the tent the previous night. And then, a horrible thought struck him. "The Vow!" he exclaimed suddenly, interrupting everyone else. "That… that person that came last night. It was because of the Vow!"

"What are you on about?" George asked, smile melting from his face.

"Why would they attack the tent though? Everyone that was affected by it was inside," Hermione pointed out.

Fred shook his head solemnly, "Think about it. If George, for example, had died when he got hit by Snape's spell, then he wouldn't have married Angelina or had Roxy and Fred. If Bill had died, he wouldn't have had Dominique, Louis or Victoire. It's not just the people immediately involved in the Vow who are in danger. Everything that's happened since could be reversed."

"We need to move to Grimmauld place," George said grimly, his head buried in his hands, "Soon."

"Who's that at the window?" Ginny said suddenly as she raised a hand to point.

Everyone's heads snapped towards the rain-splattered glass, but there was no one there. The gate swung open and closed, open and closed and the trees swayed in unnatural synchronicity. Although the garden seemed empty and deserted, the weather was behaving in a very odd way. Plant pots fell over at the same time and rolled back and forth across the garden in unison. The wind whipped the house in a continuous rhythm and even the rain seemed to be falling to a specific beat.

"Ginny, where exactly was the person you saw?" Fred asked.

"Just next to the gate over there," Ginny replied shakily, "They came in and then just vanished as I pointed at them."

The was a squeak as the kitchen door opened and the wind banged it shut again.

"Good evening everyone!" Mr. Weasley's voice called through and there was a collective sigh of relief as he appeared at the living room door, Ron behind him.

"Something the matter?" Mr. Weasley asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Ginny, was there only one person at the garden gate, or two?" George asked, turning towards his sister.

"I only saw one person!" Ginny snapped back. "Otherwise, I would have said, 'who are those two people at the gate'!" she leapt to her feet and stormed out the room.

"So… how was Quidditch?" Ron asked awkwardly.

"It was great. Molly's an excellent Beater," Fred said proudly.

"So she really takes after her father," Mr. Weasley said smiling.

"Or her Uncle," George said, "Everyone knows I'm a better player than Fred. I always have been."

"I could easily beat you in any match and, before this morning, I hadn't ridden a broom for twenty years," Fred challenged.

"Yeah, right. Your daughter's a better player than you, and she'd never even touched broom before today," George joked.

"Well, she had to get her talent from somewhere," Fred said, "It only makes sense that she got it from me."

Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen, informed everyone that dinner would be ready in half an hour and gave out instructions to help prepare everything. So, Fred, George and Lee headed to the kitchen table and set out the cutlery, glasses and plates. They folded up napkins and then returned to the cooker to help stew vegetables.

As Fred was stirring the large pot of gravy, he said, "I think we should all move tomorrow. We don't know when that thing or even something worse might come- we need to leave as soon as possible."

Those of the family who were in the room didn't reply until Mrs. Weasley, who was peeling carrots, said, "We can't go."

"And why's that?"

"Because Minerva and Poppy are coming back tomorrow, they sent me an owl. They're bringing some professional healers from St. Mungo's to check you and your brother over."

"Honestly, mum. For the last time, we're fine!"

"You might feel fine, but the more blood you two lose, the closer you are to… to…"

"Mum, neither of us are going anywhere," George comforted as he entered the kitchen after placing jugs of pumpkin juice on the table. "With the amount of bandage you've put on us, I doubt even a millilitre of blood could seep out at all. I promise, we're fine, we'd tell you if we weren't."

Mrs Weasley didn't look thoroughly convinced, but resumed the chopping and peeling of the carrots and said nothing more until the subject resurfaced.

"What about tomorrow evening, then? After McGonagall's left with the healers."

"We'll leave when things become too serious to handle," Mrs Weasley said strictly, "Currently, everyone's fine here so we'll stay here."

"But we don't know if Bill's safe. Or Charlie, or Percy," Fred pointed out.

"They'd write to us straight away if something was wrong," Mrs. Weasley persisted, "They know the seriousness of the situation, they'll be careful."

"What if they couldn't write to us!" Fred replied, voice raised slightly.

"Do you know what?" Mrs Weasley shouted. "I don't think I need your help anymore. The kitchen is too crowded with everyone helping. Why don't you go and sit in the lounge for a while? Have a rest before dinner?"

Earning a glare from Kat as he went, Fred reluctantly trudged through to the living room where he sat next to Willow, who had settled in quite nicely to life at the Burrow.

"Why doesn't anyone else understand that it's not safe to stay here, Willow?" he said quietly, "They need to leave if they want to survive, but don't listen to me."

Willow raised her head slightly as though she was listening to what Fred was saying.

"Why won't anyone listen to me?"

He sat next to Willow, stroking her gently and staring into the fire until Mrs. Weasley called that dinner was ready. He got up, but, instead of going into the kitchen to sit at the table with everyone else, he hung around at the front door until he was sure no one was looking at him. Only then did he slip out of the door and stride away from the Burrow, completely unnoticed. He didn't know or care where he was going. But he hated that he couldn't keep his family safe. He needed to feel as though he was doing something to help. So, he marched across the muddy fields, the only thing he had with him was his wand, but he needed nothing else.

He didn't know how long he walked for, but when he stopped, the sun was setting over the hills above him. Part of him was slightly disappointed that no one had come after him, not even George, but the other part was thankful. His chest ached horrifically, but that didn't stop him from hiking on.

When he had walked as far as he could, Fred disapparated, to appear again on the same, murky island that he and George had visited a few nights before. He ducked behind a rock and peered around, when he couldn't see anyone around, he stalked forward, stopping every so often to check for any signs of life. When he finally reached the same rocky bay where he had been attacked on his previous visit, Fred slid behind a tree, and out of sight of the people who patrolled the bay. There were at least ten of them, all strolling down the bay, faces masked and wands held at their arms-length pointing away from them.

He remained hidden behind the tree for over an hour, trying to figure out the best way to carry out what he wanted to do. After revising the pattern of the guards patrolling, Fred snuck around to the edge of the bay and waited for the wizard he'd been watching particularly closely to pass. When he did, Fred silently cast a stunning spell and caught the man. Hoping with all his heart that no attention had been brought to him, Fred threw the unconscious man over his shoulder and carried him back to the tree he had been hiding at for so long. He removed the man's wand from his hand and buried it under a tree so it merely seemed to be a fallen twig. When he attempted to take off the man's mask, his fingers burned painfully, but the mask didn't move at all.

When the guard woke a few minutes later, Fred was ready. He had his wand pointed at the man's face. The guard moved his hand to his pocket for his wand, but instead of seeming worried, the man laughed. "You're a fool if you think I need a wand to perform magic. I'm more powerful than you, you're an idiot thinking you'll get away from here alive."

"I've done it before," Fred replied, "And if you were more powerful than me, you wouldn't have let me capture you."

"So you're that idiot who came the other day. You caused quite a stir up. One of our men died, you know?"

"We did nothing to threaten your men and we were attacked; they deserved to die."

"Is that so?" Without waiting for an answer, the man continued, "Well, some of the others said you'd come back, but honestly, I wasn't so sure. I didn't think you'd have the nerve."

"Is that so?"

"Not after that fight."

"I'm not going to be scared off by a bit of pathetic squabbling. Now, tell me what you and your friends are doing here. Why are you causing the storms?"

The man tutted, "I thought you'd have figured that out. Obviously, we're using the storm to cover up our actual plans. We can't be attracting the attention of nosy Muggles. We decided that we'd use the storm that's supposedly coming over anyway to cover up what we're doing. Disappointingly, that pathetic storm only brought a bit of rain, much less than scientists predicted, so we took matters into our own hands."

"So, what are you doing, and why do you need to cover it up?"

"We're getting revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Why, yes. It's rather entertaining too."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you that," there was something patronizing in the man's voice which Fred found rather insulting, but he didn't falter.

"The other day, when my brother and I came, we heard two of your men discussing something. Something about someone causing damage-"

"Think, boy! Did I not just say that we wanted revenge? The man that those guards were talking about the other day damaged us in more than one way. He ruined us and we want to get revenge! For a while, we lost track of him, many believed him to be dead and our trail was lost, but only a few weeks ago, he returned and we could continue."

Fred's stomach dropped. These people were trying to kill him, but they seemingly didn't recognise who he was. His voice was shaky as he asked, "Why are you telling me all this?"

"You asked."

"You're not… lying, are you?"

"Why would I? You'd probably kill me if I did."

"But you said earlier that you didn't need a wand to be magic."

"I did, but I can't perform very powerful enchantments without one. I could maybe distract you long enough to escape, but frankly, I'm quite enjoying this."

More than very confused, Fred asked, "Those spells that your men attacked me and my brother with, how do you heal them?"

"We know a fair few spells that others don't, perhaps you could be more specific?"

"My brother and I got hit by some of your ridiculous spells last time we were here, they gave us cuts, cuts that we haven't been able to heal. They won't stop bleeding, either."

"Let me see."

Fred lifted up his shirt slightly and unwrapped the bandages that were now caked with blood. But it wasn't the scarlet bandage that shocked Fred. The gash had turned a horrible shade of sickly green and the skin around it was bruised and pale. Blood continued to pour from the wound, but not as though it were liquid, it seeped through every tiny piece of punctured skin and slowly rolled away. Fred gasped sharply.

"It wasn't like this before!"

"It would seem, that your efforts to heal the wound have made it worse," the man said simply and Fred pointed his wand directly at the man's heart.

Breathing heavily, Fred said, "The spell was meant to do that, wasn't it? Tell me how to heal them. I know you know. My brothers could be so much worse than this!"

"I'm afraid I can't help you," The man said simply. "The more treatment added to these, the worse they will get. If no treatment had been added to the wounds, then I could have healed you in a heartbeat."

Fred took a step forward and poked his wand into the man's throat.

"You won't hurt me."

"Why is that?"

"Because you need me for answers, and the last thing you want is for you captor to be unable to co-operate properly."

"There are plenty of others down there I can ask, don't you worry."

The man laughed again, "You really are very stupid. But also, rather confusing. Perhaps, now I have answered some of your questions, you will answer some of mine?"

"That depends on what you want to ask me."

"Why do you want to find out all this information about our plans here?"

"Because anyone with half a brain could figure out that your 'storm' isn't a normal one. Thunder claps exactly once a minute with a perfectly shaped lightning bolt thirty seconds later- it's the most accurate storm in existence!"

"If it were true that anyone could notice the perfection of our storm, then why are you the only person that's come to investigate?"

Fred was caught and he knew it. He couldn't tell the wizard about his miraculous return from the dead or how he thought it was weird that exactly a week after he'd made himself known in Diagon Alley, the storm had started, so he awkwardly lied, "I'm a meteorologist. I was studying the storm the other night when I noticed the pattern."

"A wizard who's a meteorologist…" said the man thoughtfully, "I've never heard of that before."

"Well, I married a Muggle and decided that I should probably try to blend in with their way of living for a while."

"How long have you been studying the weather for?"

"Only a few years," Fred said a little too quickly, his heart was beginning to pound extremely quickly.

"But, I have a friend who works at the Ministry," Fred continued, "and they asked me if I could find out as much about the storm as I could, so I came to investigate here."

Hoping that his story was believable, Fred stopped.

"So, you thought you'd trace the origin of the storm?"

"That's right."

"With your brother?"

"With my brother," Fred confirmed.

"Is he also a meteorologist?"

"No, no he works in a shop."

"What kind of shop?"

"A joke- err… a Quidditch shop."

Fred's insides squirmed, now he'd blown it, but somehow, the man seemed not to have noticed.

"Why did a man who worked in a Quidditch shop want to come with you to study a storm?"

"It's terribly boring working in a shop, so he wanted to spend some time away."

"I see."

"Have I answered all your questions now?"

"Oh, I think so. So, if you'd be so kind as to lower your wand, I'd like to get back to my guard, my colleagues will be concerned. I'd like my wand back please."

"Certainly," Fred said, "If you can find it." He indicated to the twig strewn ground, grinning.

"Why, you little-"

"I really must be off," Fred said and turned his back on the man. This was possibly the biggest mistake that Fred had made all week. The second he'd begun to walk away; he was blasted off his feet and whacked into a tree by an invisible shield. Struggling to his feet, Fred raised his wand that the man, who had risen and was holding out his arms, hands shaking slightly.

"Maybe you forgot that I told you I didn't need a wand to fight?"

" _Stupefy!"_ Fred yelled, but the force-field prevented the spell from going anywhere near its target. Instead, the curse hit the wall and powered back towards Fred, who ducked at the very last second. The man sent powerful blasts of hot air at Fred, which knocked him off his feet. The last one exploded in his face, but instead of getting up and leaving, or even disapparating, Fred sent as many curses as he could think of at his attacker. Every single one was engulfed by the shield, but Fred sent one last spell- not straight forward, but directly to his left. Hoping desperately that his idea would work, Fred backed away. Just as he'd planned, the spell rebounded off a tree and went soaring towards the attacker, around the edge of the rippling force-field. The man, who's concentration was lost, was blown off his feet and, glared at Fred through his mask.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Fred disapparated to reappear outside the Burrow, fighting for breath and clutching his chest, his wand clutched tightly in his shaking hand. Sweat trickled down his forehead, but he didn't wipe it away. It was as though he'd lost all control over his body. He sat on the cobbled pavement, the wind whipping his face. The bandage, which he evidently hadn't replaced properly, was flapping around violently, his hair blowing in all directions.

He remained there for a good few minutes shivering in the icy wind, but when he finally felt as though his limbs would cooperate if he tried to use them, he shakily got to his feet and trudged into the Burrow. He had no idea of the time, but knew it must be quite late due to the blackness of the sky. He went through to the living room, where, as they had done the night before, everyone was curled up. Only George was awake- staring into the fire, worry etched on his face.

"If you stare at that flame any longer, you're going to blind yourself," Fred said when he'd been there for a few moments. "It's extremely dangerous."

George whipped his head around and beamed widely. He jumped to his feet and came forward to hug his brother.

"Where have you been?" he said quietly. "Please tell me you didn't go back to the island."

"I could do that but I'd be lying."

"Don't lie, that's naughty."

"I went back to the island."

"Why?" George exclaimed, a little too loudly. Lee snorted and turned over.

Fred shushed his brother. "I found out a little bit. They're planning revenge."

"On who?"

"Me. Apparently, I ' _ruined them'_. Don't ask me how, but they want payback for something."

"How do you know?"

"I asked."

George stared at him blankly so Fred explained everything that had happened on the island. "Honestly, I'm quite disappointed that no one came after me," he concluded.

"I wanted to as soon as I'd realised you'd gone, but mum told me I had to stay and eat something- speaking of which, how did you get dinner?"

"I didn't," Fred replied quickly, "But anyway, I-"

"Fred! When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"I don't know, George, it would have probably been… I'm not sure, but anyway, I asked the man if he could heal the wounds we've got, but he said not now they're infected."

"Infected? What do you mean infected?"

"Is yours not?"

"I'm not sure, funnily enough, I can't see my own head."

"Let me see," Fred said as his brother unwrapped the bandage. Sure enough, the wound was green and sticky looking, the blood oozing from the perforated skin like mud. "Yep, infected," Fred confirmed.

George ran over to the living room mirror and looked at the wound. "How come I didn't realise?" he said, disgusted.

"Well, presumably it would be hurting constantly anyway, so you might not notice a change," Fred suggested.

"That's gross," said George. "So they can't fix it at all?"

"Well, the guy said that the more we try to heal it, the more potions and charms we try to use, the worse it'll get. It's too badly infected now for him to do anything, not that he would have anyway."

"Fantastic," George sighed and sat down on the edge of the sofa which Angelina, Fred jnr. and Roxanne were all asleep on.

In the few minutes silence that the twins shared, the thunder began with an extremely loud _'bang'_.

"Midnight," Fred muttered sleepily.

"You should get some rest," George told him.

"So should you," Fred replied.

He lay down on the rug next to the fire and closed his eyes. Even though his mind was buzzing with the events of the last few hours, he fell asleep almost immediately.

He woke the next morning to find most others already up and talking. Figuring that they were talking about him… again… Fred kept his eyes shut and listened.

"He could have been killed!" Angelina was saying.

"But he only went out in the first place because he wants to help save everyone else!" George protested. "He feels responsible for what happened."

"He is responsible for what happened," Ginny snapped, "If he hadn't made the Vow-"

"He would have been murdered on the spot by Malfoy and half of you would be dead," Harry pointed out.

"Exactly. What Fred did was brave and loyal," George agreed.

"He only agreed to the vow because he was too scared he would be killed! He was cowardly!" Ginny shot.

"Would you rather he was dead?" George said.

"What?"

"Would you rather that Fred hadn't made that Vow? Would you have preferred it if he died, and then dad died, and then Bill, and me, and mum and God knows who else? Would you have liked it better if half the family was dead?" George shouted.

"He could have got Harry killed!" Ginny yelled back.

"Ginny, you know I was prepared to die anyway. It needed to happen," Harry said softly.

"Fred saved the lives of pretty much all your family, Ginny," Angelina reasoned, "He could have saved you."

"But he didn't know that at the time! He had no idea what he was doing!"

"So? Ginny, for all you know, he could have saved yours! Would you be grateful then?" George said angrily, "I don't understand why you're so annoyed at him!"

"Because he made a stupid, childish promise could have lost us the war, pretended he was dead for twenty years- let's not pretend that that was easy for any of us."

George opened his mouth to say something but Ginny interrupted, "George, you practically starved yourself to death thinking that you'd never see him again."

"Ginny, he's trying really hard to make sure that none of you die now, just like he did twenty years ago. You should really appreciate how much he's putting himself through," Harry said gently.

"I'll forgive him when he apologizes for almost losing us the war, Harry. You could have died because of him."

"If I could have died, I would have," Harry said. "I wasn't protected by the vow."

"But he gave away so much information," Ginny protested.

"Actually, he only told Malfoy what he knew," George said, "If he purposefully kept himself away from the plans and information, he technically wasn't breaking the oath."

Clearly, Ginny could tell she was beaten for when she spoke, her voice was subdued and quiet, "I'll apologize when he wakes up," she sighed reluctantly.

Fred rolled over to face his sister. "Apology accepted," he said as he sat up, wincing in pain from his slit chest.

While George, Harry and Angelina all broke out in smiles, Ginny scowled and stormed out the room.

"Oops," Fred laughed as he watched his sister leave.

"How much of that conversation did you actually hear?" George asked, still chuckling.

"From, _'he feels responsible for what happened'_ ," Fred said in a dramatic voice. "I'm glad to know I have some people on my side. Where's everyone else?" he asked, looking around the room and realising that no one but Harry, George and Angelina were in the room.

"Ron's gone to work with dad and Hugo helping him in the shop. Mum's making breakfast with Hermione and Rose. Everyone else has gone outside. The rain has stopped for a while so they figured they should make the most of it." George said.

Fred sighed and rubbed the skin around his cut.

"Is yours hurting as well?" George asked him, tilting his head towards his brother's gash. "Mine's been killing all morning."

"It hurts like crazy."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be glad that Professor McGonagall will be over in half an hour with Madam Pomfrey and some healers from St Mungo's," Mrs. Weasley said as he bustled in holding a large bowl of scrambled egg and a plate of freshly buttered toast. She called everyone in from the garden and handed out plates, scooped a spoonful of egg onto a slice of toast and sat on the armchair, looking at Fred. When he placed his untouched plate on the floor, Mrs. Weasley was ready to strike.

"You had better eat that Fred Weasley," she told him strictly. Fred looked at her, "It's been ages since you last ate something and-"

"I'm not hungry," Fred interrupted.

Mrs. Weasley looked ready to explode, but before she could say anything, George chipped in, "Eat something, mate. Even if it's just half a slice of toast. It'll do you good."

"I said I'm not hungry," he glanced at his brother, whose eyebrows were raised disapprovingly. Scowling, Fred reached forward to his plate and bit off a small section of toast. It tasted funny in his mouth, like dry sand. He chewed it, nose scrunched up and swallowed. It caught on his throat, feeling as though it was ripping it to shreds. As Mrs. Weasley looked slightly satisfied, he pushed the plate away from himself, coughing. There wasn't much conversation while everyone ate, but Fred could feel various people's eyes fixed on his back.

Half an hour later, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and two healers appeared on the doorstep of the Burrow. While Mrs. Weasley welcomed them in, Fred turned to George.

"How much do we want to tell them?" he asked.

"Just say we got hit by unidentified curses that caused the wounds, that later got infected. That's the truth and doesn't give away too much information."

Fred nodded and sat on the sofa. George sat next to him and patted him on the back. "This isn't your fault, you know?"

"You know what Ginny was saying this morning? About me being a coward and treacherous? She was right. I was scared to die, especially at the hands of Malfoy."

"But so many more of us would have died otherwise, I would have died."

"Would you? If I hadn't told Malfoy the day we were moving Harry, no one would have been ambushed," Fred pointed out.

"But Mundungus told them too, it wasn't entirely your fault."

"Dung didn't know himself until a day or two before, I knew weeks in advance."

"What about Bill? Greyback's attack on him would have killed him if-"

They were interrupted by the living room door swinging open and five people strolling in. Mrs. Weasley followed behind McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and the two healers holding a tray of tea and biscuits which she placed on the coffee table. Fred and George stood up and fell silent.

"Show us the wounds," the male healer instructed sharply.

He didn't look particularly friendly, with a scowling face and tightly sealed mouth. His dark eyebrows creased together and his eyes seemed to be constantly glaring. Slightly taken aback, Fred lifted his shirt up and unwrapped his bandage to show the gash. George who also looked rather shocked at the abruptness if the healer's command, had undone the bandage around his head. Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall both gasped loudly at the sudden worsening of the injuries. The female nurse, who looked infinitely kinder than her colleague, stepped towards Fred. She had long blonde hair which was pulled into a tight ponytail and a short, pixie-like face, with sparkling blue eyes. Being considerably shorter than Fred and asked him to lie down on the sofa so she could inspect the wound properly. Fred did so, raising his eyebrows at George who'd been cornered by the other healer and had been forced to sit on the sofa opposite, looking slightly terrified.

"How did this happen?" the healer asked Fred kindly.

"I was hit a curse. I don't know what it was, but it caused the cut. We couldn't stop the bleeding, even when Madam Pomfrey came to try and help. The more we tried to heal it, the worse it got."

The healer turned to Madam Pomfrey and asked, "What did you put on the cuts to try and help?"

Madam Pomfrey explained the potions and creams and while, to Fred, it seemed as though she was speaking a different language, the healer nodded thoughtfully before turning back to Fred with her lips pursed, "How much does it hurt?"

"More than I thought was actually possible."

"Did the pain increase when it got infected?"

"I didn't notice the infection at all until I saw it."

"Does the pain only stay in the one area where the cut is or does it spread further?"

"It's only in the one place- from the bottom of my throat to about there." He indicated to a point about halfway down his stomach.

The healer considered this for a while before removing her wand from her white robes and saying, "This will probably hurt a bit, but I need you to stay as still as you can for me, please."

Fred lay back and stared at the ceiling, but even with the warning, he couldn't prepare himself for the amount of pain that exploded into his chest a few seconds later. The healer placed her wand gently at the side of his cut and muttered a strange incantation. Fred couldn't help but scream out in pain. It was as though someone had lit a fire as hot as the sun on his chest. His vision blurred and he found himself gasping for breath. Cool, refreshing air to fill his burning lungs.

"Well, that didn't work," the nurse said and she scratched her head awkwardly, "I'm really sorry."

"That's… that's f…f…fine," Fred stuttered trying desperately to stay conscious, still struggling to breathe.

Fred watched weakly as the other healer placed the tip of his wand above George's head and muttered under his breath. An orange light, the shade of the setting sun, wound its way out of the wand and coiled around like a rope above George's forehead where it began to spin as it lowered down and settled on the graze. It burned a bright yellow and the dispersed in tiny sparks.

"Did that help at all?" the man asked George.

"It hurts a tiny bit less, but nothing major changed," George replied.

"Well, the bleeding hasn't stopped but if it stopped the pain…" the male healer muttered thoughtfully, "Lauren, you try it," He turned to the female healer who raised her wand and murmured the same incantation that her colleague had done only a few seconds before. The orange light emerged from the wand tip and settled on Fred's chest like a cat. The oven in his lungs seemed to have immediately turned down the temperature by a few hundred degrees, but they were still dry, and each breath he took was rattled and shaky.

"Better?" Lauren asked him kindly.

"Much," Fred replied, looking down at the gash. It looked the same- a greenish tint to the dry, poisoned skin and thick, gooey blood slowly rolling down his body.

"Well, it's not stopped the bleeding, or brought your temperature down by much."

They remained in the living room for about half an hour, Lauren and her colleague trying out various charms and incantations to clear up the infections. Fred lost count of how many times he felt as though he were about to pass out from pain or faint at the horrific sight of the wounds. Nothing seemed to help, and after all that time, all that had happened was that the green tint to the skin had become slightly more grey, which Lauren informed him was a good thing. Fred felt sick. He'd been lying uselessly on the sofa for thirty long minutes, having lotions rubbed on his skin, wands pointed at him and potions poured down his throat, but none of it seemed to make any difference at all.

McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley had long since vanished to find everyone else, and when the two healers had stopped for a break and a sip of tea, Fred overheard the male healer say quietly, "It's the only thing left to do."

"But, Steven, it's so painful!" Lauren whispered worriedly, Fred was sure he wasn't meant to be hearing this conversation, but he couldn't help but listen.

"Lauren, it's the only option we have left," Steven said, scowling. "It's not going to do them any damage."

"Fine," Lauren sighed and put down her teacup and got up. She walked towards Fred holding two glasses. Fred quickly pretended not to have heard what she had said as she held out one of the glasses to him and said, "Try this."

"What is it?"

"It's… well, we're hoping it'll stop the bleeding," Lauren said awkwardly so that even if Fred had hadn't heard her previous conversation, he'd be able to tell she was lying.

"Will it hurt?"

"No, hopefully it'll be quite relaxing," she replied, not looking Fred in the eye, "You need to drink all of it."

Knowing he couldn't let Lauren know he'd heard what she'd said, Fred took the potion from her. He closed his eyes and poured it into his mouth. The second he'd swallowed it, Fred began to feel drowsy. His head dropped back to rest on the sofa and he heard a faint smash as the glass he'd been holding dropped to the floor. He was completely drained of energy, all he wanted to do was rest. His head lolled to the side and his eyes closed.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Fred's dreams were littered with pain, loneliness and suffering. Thinking about it, all Fred had known for the last twenty years was sorrow. He'd had Kat, and he'd had Molly, but was that the same as having a mother? A brother? A father? Screams and cries… wails and moans… why did life have to be like this?

Fred groaned and slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He lay on the sofa, a blanket thrown over him. His arm was still hanging off the edge of the sofa limply, in the same position as it had been when he dropped the glass several hours before. Sluggishly, he pulled back the blanket to look at his chest. Thankfully, the infection seemed to have cleared mostly, although, there was still a green hue to his skin and the cut was still persistently bleeding. His lungs still burned and oxygen seemed to catch on his throat with every breath. He didn't feel like getting up, so rolled over and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. He looked over at George who was still asleep on the opposite sofa. His cut seemed much better too, although his face was pale and clammy. Like Fred, he had a blanket wrapped tightly around him. Fred rolled back over to face the back of the sofa. He didn't want to speak to anyone, not even George, so when his twin awoke with a soft moan a few minutes later, Fred remained still and silent, staring at the scarlet cushions. He heard George get up and come across the room towards him. The edge of the sofa sagged as George sat on it.

"What have you got us into?" George whispered. "I'm sorry I thought you were dead. I should never have believed it." He laughed slightly, "I really shouldn't have- I never wanted to. But after your funeral, well, I was forced to accept it. It was hard, really hard. For twenty years of our life, everything had been so fun. We pranked everyone, made everyone laugh, we were a team. And then, for the same amount of time, everything was so boring. It was dull, full of tears and depression, I was alone. For what seemed like the first time, I'd seen the other side of life, the opposite to what I'd been living. And now your back and… and… I'd missed you more than I'd realised. Life had become the same, boring routine every single day.

"Now it's as though I have to apologise to everyone. Angelina and the kids for just being so… so bad as a parent, mum, for breaking down in tears every time I came here and stayed in our room and… you. I'm sorry I stopped believing in you, Fred. I'm sorry I believed for even a second that you were gone. I promise that I'll never, ever stop believing in you ever again. I want everything to be how it used to be. Me and you, a team again. Inseparable."

George stood up again and paced back across the room. "You can stop pretending to be asleep now, by the way," he added as he sat back down on his sofa.

"Please, never give a speech that deep ever again," Fred said, turning to face his brother and ignoring the tears which were dripping down his face, "It was way too serious for my liking. If you want us to be like we were twenty years ago, you need to stop being so solemn, and start messing around more."

"Were you being serious there or messing about?" George asked, smiling.

"What a good question," Fred replied, sitting up also grinning. "Do you know what they did to clear the infections?"

"Not a clue. I refused to take the potion for a while. I wanted to know what they'd done to you first, but eventually, they literally forced me to drink it. Don't remember anything after that. Shall we go and find everyone?" George said, getting up.

"Let's," Fred agreed, also getting to his feet.

The two of them walked towards the door and headed outside to find everyone else. Even though nobody slept there anymore, the tent had remained up in the garden. Fred and George ran through the rain and slipped inside. George headed to the other side of the tent and sat next to Angelina, who kissed him on the cheek and took his hand. George smiled at her.

"We were just discussing moving to Grimmauld place," Angelina explained. "Harry went over earlier to see how things were."

"Kreacher was delighted," Harry said, "Honestly, so was I- I thought he would have died by now! Anyway, he said he'd be more than happy if we came over."

"It's a bit closer to Diagon Alley and London, so it'll be easier to get everyone to King's Cross in September," Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing the twins. "There's a lot more space too, it'll be a lot less cramped."

"Okey dokey. So, when are we going?" George asked.

Everyone seemed very surprised at the positivity of the twins, so much so, that no one replied for a few seconds.

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley said, "Tomorrow afternoon."

Fred looked around the tent and then asked, "Where's Kat?"

"She went home," Mrs. Weasley replied, "She said she needs to do some planning for work but we told her we'd come to pick her up in September so she can see Molly off to school."

"How did she get back?"

"Side apparition with your dad. He went with her to pick up some of yours and Molly's stuff. He'll be back soon."

"I didn't know Muggles could side apparate," George said thoughtfully.

"Well, I suppose they aren't doing any magic. The witch or wizard is doing the apparating. It's the same with Muggle parents sending their children to Hogwarts. They can go through the barrier to get to platform 9 ¾, but the barrier is magic, not the Muggle," Hermione said, stroking Willow who was curled up, head in Hermione's lap.

Just as Mrs. Weasley was about to get up to begin making dinner, a beautiful grey and brown speckled owl, with large amber eyes swooped into the tent, a letter clutched in its beak.

"Pepper!" Molly cried, leaping to her feet and stepping across the room towards her owl who stood in the middle of the tent looking very pleased with herself. When Molly came towards her, Pepper jumped up and landed on her shoulder. Molly removed the letter from the owl's leg and slid open the envelope. Her eyes darted back and forward as she read the letter. She frowned slightly.

"Who's it from?" Fred asked her, standing up and walking towards her.

"It doesn't say," Molly replied, turning the letter over to check for any sign of a signature, and then handing the letter to her dad.

Fred read aloud:

 _"_ _I assume you have now realised the danger you are all in and are taking all the precautions you can to protect yourselves. I dare say that even your biggest efforts can prevent the risk you will all face soon but for now, I'm sure you'll stay safe. If I were you, I'd take a warning from me; stay inside and stay together. The danger to come is unavoidable, but if you are smart enough, there are ways to lessen the effects. I have no doubt you will all put each other's safety first, so, once again, I will give you some advice; you are your own priority_ _."_

He paused and looked up, eyebrows raised, _"_ Well, that's not creepy at all."

"Do you think it's linked to the Vow?" Angelina asked.

"Could be. There's no way of knowing really."

"Whatever it is, it's not a good thing. How do they know about that thing attacking the tent the other night?" Hermione said, "It doesn't make sense- the entire letter's one big riddle!"

"Where did you get this letter from, Pepper?" Molly asked, "Who gave it to you?" Pepper, however, merely blinked and nibbled Molly's ear affectionately.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fred could have sworn he saw Harry smile and he knew why- his old owl- Hedwig- used to do exactly the same to him whenever she brought him post.

"What do we do?" asked James, "Do we stick to our original plan?"

"I say so," Fred said, "The letter says, 'the danger to come'. 'To come' implies that we have a little bit of time before anything serious happens."

"So we can all rest assured that no one's going to be hiding in the chimney ready to slide down it and jinx us all the second we enter the living room," George clarified.

Fred heard the faint squeak of the garden gate swinging open and shut and said, "And, we don't need to worry that someone's going to jump into the tent," he paused, "right now!"

The tent flap flew open and everyone screamed while Fred and George burst out laughing and Mr. Weasley stepped into the tent, holding a large bag and looking extremely befuddled.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, surprised.

"No… no… not at all," Fred stuttered in between giggles.

"It was just the twins being… well- the twins," Angelina explained, looking crossly at George.

"Oh, come on! That was hilarious!" George protested, still laughing hysterically and high-fiving his brother.

Completely ignoring Fred and George, Mrs. Weasley stood up, seized the letter from the floor of the tent and handed it to her husband who read it quickly.

All he could say when he'd finished was, "Oh." He sat down with everyone else, placing his bag by the tent entrance. "What are we to do?"

"For now, we'll do what we agreed to do this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, "We'll move to Grimmauld Place tomorrow and stay there until September. We won't need to leave except to go to Diagon Alley to get school supplies, but we can do that sooner rather than later."

"Right then," Mr. Weasley seemed satisfied, "What's for dinner, I'm starving?"


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next morning was chaos. After dinner the previous night, everyone had gone straight to sleep in the living room. Nobody had bothered to pack even a shirt, so, in the few hours before they were going to leave for London, everyone had to pack the clothes they'd need for a while. Those going to Hogwarts had to pack all their equipment for their school year too.

Several hours and many, many cases of random clothes and objects later, one by one, people began to disapparate, each adult holding tightly onto a child and two or three trunks. Harry went first with James, saying that they'd come straight back if it wasn't safe to apparate for any reason. Ginny and Lily followed, closely pursued by Fred and Molly, George and Fred jnr., Angelina and Roxanne, Hermione and Rose, Ron and Hugo, Mrs. Weasley and Albus, Lee, Teddy and finally Mr. Weasley who had picked up Willow and was holding her carefully under his arm. Everyone rendezvoused outside Grimmauld place, Willow whining unhappily. Fred took her from his dad and tickled her behind the ears. George took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it around to the children and Teddy. They each opened and read the note, memorising the address written on it.

"Now, everyone think about that address," George instructed, "And as if by magic, a door should appear," he clapped and pointed between number eleven and thirteen "just there."

And a scruffy, chipped door appeared directly where George had pointed. The door was surrounded by moss covered walls and smashed windows. An entire house had simply appeared no space what so ever. Harry led everyone into the house, George following close behind and acting like a tour guide.

"Welcome to number twelve Grimmauld place! Today, I will be showing you all around the house and allocating you five-star rooms to stay the night in. Previously owned by the Black family, this house is full of wizarding memories- and dead house elves, so please, do be careful where you put your fingers." They stopped at the front door, George's hand resting on the silver doorknob, "Now, who's ready to enter the house of their dreams?" George asked dramatically, but before he could even turn the handle, the door swung open and George fell backwards onto the floor.

A small, very ugly creature stood there, beaming wildly. It had a pointed nose and long, droopy ears. Its big, green eyes, were alight with joy and its long, dirty rag hung off its bony body.

"Kreacher!" Ron cried happily at the sight of the house-elf.

"Mr. Weasley!" Kreacher replied. His voice was croaky and hoarse. "It's such a pleasure to have everyone return to this noble house!"

Kreacher shook hands with everyone as they filed in and, to those he knew, greeted them cheerfully.

"Mr. Weasley! Ms. Granger! Mr. Weasley! Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! Mrs. Weasley! Mrs. Potter!" he turned to George who was still sitting on the floor, staring at Kreacher, "Mr. Weasley!"

When he'd recovered from the shock of seeing Kreacher behave politely, George got to his feet, closed the old, worn door and followed his family through to the kitchen and sat next to Fred at the table.

"Can I make some tea for everyone, or perhaps a mug of hot chocolate?" Kreacher asked.

After taking drinks orders for everyone, Kreacher produced a large plate of ginger biscuits, which he placed in the middle of the table.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry said, nibbling on a biscuit, "Have one yourself."

"Thank you, master Potter, but Kreacher must not. You see, Kreacher has been making cakes and biscuits once a week for twenty years, hoping you'd return, and with no one else to eat these sweet treats, Kreacher ate them himself. Kreacher was delighted when he heard you were all coming back as it meant that Kreacher wouldn't have to keep feeding himself these unhealthy foods."

He brought over another tray, this one stacked with frothy mugs of hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows. Everyone greedily took a mug and began to slurp happily on their hot drinks. Harry introduced everyone to Kreacher and the house elf shook everyone's hand heartily and told them all what an honour it was to have them staying. Then, people began to find their rooms. Rose, Roxanne, Lily and Molly all went to the largest room, Albus and James next door and Fred jnr. and Hugo next to that. On the floor above, Lee, Teddy and Fred took one room, with George and Angelina next to them. Across the landing from them, were Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took the room on the first floor, above the kitchen. Molly took Willow's bed, blanket and toys up to the girl's room. Willow, who clearly didn't like the severed elf heads, stuck very close to Fred all the time, tail between her legs.

During a dinner of vegetable soup and fresh bread, which neither Fred or George ate as they still hadn't got their appetites after their ' _treatment_ ' the previous day, Mrs. Weasley said. "I was thinking that tomorrow, the two of you could go and work in the shop. Poor Ron's been in every day for the past twenty years-"

"He's not in today," Fred pointed out.

"The shop's closed on Sundays," George said as his mother continued as though neither of them had spoken.

"I thought it'd be nice for Ron to have a day off and for you two to run the shop for the day. Meanwhile, we can all go and get the Hogwarts supplies that we need for the new term."

"I've already got all my Hogwarts stuff," Molly said.

"And some of us don't need Hogwarts stuff," Hugo said grumpily.

"Well, I'll take Molly, Hugo, Roxy, Lily and Fred out somewhere. We'll just browse around Diagon Alley for a while and then go and help in the joke shop," Angelina suggested.

"Seems good. It seems like the joke shops going to have its fun back. Everyone will be thrilled that you're back," he said to Fred happily.

Even though he was terrified about the questions he was going to be asked, Fred couldn't deny that he was looking forward to being back in the shop and selling his own products.

For the rest of dinner, Fred and George continued to entertain everyone with bad puns and jokes. After they'd eaten, everyone returned to their rooms, but instead of heading back with Lee and Teddy, Fred went into George's room. As Angelina was helping with dishes downstairs, the twins had the room to themselves.

"I have a problem," Fred said as he closed the door and sat down on the bed.

"Oh yes?"

"I have no clothes for work. My only suits are from the office and they're all rather boring. They're nothing like the suits we have to wear at the joke shop."

"I have a spare don't worry," George said, "I was thinking that we should come up with a new set of products. We haven't had new stock in ages and we need to keep the popularity up."

Fred smiled in agreement. He had no idea why he had waited so long to find his family. George seemed so much happier now that he'd been reunited with his twin and he'd forgotten how much he missed working in the joke shop. George got up and walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a suit and tie. He handed it to his brother and said, "I'd get up at about seven. We need to get up and ready, have breakfast, get to the shop and set up for opening at nine."

"Right," he got up and headed towards the door. As he was about to leave, he turned to George and said, "Let's bring out a new stock for Christmas."

"Seems good, we'll talk about it tomorrow, I have some ideas," George said mischievously.

The next morning, Fred and George go up earlier than everyone else. Fred slid out of bed as quietly as he could and dressed. He slipped out the door silently so as not to wake up Lee or Teddy. Creeping down the squeaky stairs, Fred looked disgustedly at the severed house-elf heads that lined the stairwell. He entered the kitchen where Kreacher was sitting slurping a mug of steaming tea and a slice of toast. When Fred came in, the old house elf jumped to his feet and bowed deeply.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley," Kreacher croaked, "What can Kreacher make you for breakfast?"

"I'm alright thanks, Kreacher, don't worry about it," Fred yawned.

"If Mr Weasley is quite sure…" Kreacher retreated to his seat and resumed sipping his tea. He picked up the Daily Prophet which lay on the table and suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong Kreacher?" Fred asked him, sitting opposite the house elf.

"Kreacher is not sure that Mr Weasley would like to read what Kreacher has just read."

"Please, give me the paper," Fred extended his hand.

Grumbling, Kreacher reluctantly handed over the newspaper. And Fred looked at the page and sighed angrily.

 ** _Death: A Joke?_**

The large title filled the top of the page and underneath, were two pictures, one of him and George shortly after their shop opened and the other taken at what Fred could only assume was his funeral. His family and friends stood weeping in front of a grave. Fred began to read the article:

 _Co-founder of the joke shop_ Weasley's Wizard Wheezes _, Fred Weasley, whose death was apparently witnessed during the Battle of Hogwarts,1998, has suddenly made a miraculous return. Many reports have been given to the Ministry of Magic in the past few days about seeing the deceased walk around Diagon Alley only last Saturday. Some believe the death of Mr Weasley to be a prank as some form of publicity for his brother's shop, others are under the impression that he took a potion of his own making so that he would become indestructible. The popularity of the shop, however, has been on the rise for the last twenty years and in the last few days, sales have rocketed as more and more visitors visit the shop in hope of seeing the long lost Weasley twin. We are hoping that very soon, Mr Weasley will explain where he has been for the last two decades but for now we are completely in the dark. Despite the little information we have been given, we are quite sure that whatever strange plans that Mr Weasley has made, or is making, are all quite certainly acts of dark magic._

Fred threw the paper across the table at Kreacher, fuming and breathing heavily.

"Now, now, Fred. What on earth did the poor table do to deserve that big of a paper cut?" George said from the doorway.

"Show George the paper please, Kreacher," Fred said, heart pounding violently against his chest.

Kreacher slid out of his seat and handed George the Daily Prophet. George read the article in silence then looked up in shock.

"Dark magic?"

"Oh, of course, what else could it have been? It's not like our younger brother is best friends with Harry Potter!" Fred shouted.

"Fred, calm down, you'll wake everyone up."

"I don't care! Surely no one believes this!"

"I'd like to say they didn't, mate but honestly I wouldn't be surprised if I'm wrong. Do you remember all the hate Harry got one year just because of an article in here?"

"I didn't know that the Daily Prophet was still publishing with the Ministry flooded," Fred said.

"I suppose people can still write their columns at home and send them to the publishers and editors by owl. I doubt they'd stop publishing the wizarding news just because of a spot of rain. Hermione still works none stop, doesn't she?" he paused, "Hurry up then, we need to get going or we'll be late."

"Can Kreacher make Mr Weasley anything for breakfast?" the house elf asked George, bowing.

"No, thank you Kreacher, I'm not that hungry," George replied, "Shall we go, Fred?"

On the way to Diagon Alley, the twins discussed their plans for a new set of products to bring out for Christmas.

"We should make these sweets and when two people eat them they switch bodies!" Fred suggested. "So, if you and I both took one, I'd still look the same, but I'd switch personalities with you, who'd still look like you, but speak and behave like me."

"What about Sneezing Quills?" George proposed a few moments later. "When they write certain words, they sneeze ink all over the parchment.

By the time they'd reached the shop, Fred and George had already developed the ideas for the Sneezing Quills and the Body Switching Bonbons, as well as Unknitting Needles, Bad Hair Spray and Fire Fungi. George unlocked the back door and flicked on the lights. They placed their coats behind the counter and moved around the shop, turning on lights, unlocking doors and restacking empty shelves. As George bent over the cage which contained the Pygmy Puffs and Puffskeins to feed them, he turned to Fred, "What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Being back? After so many years, how does it feel to be back here?"

"Amazing," Fred smiled, "Although I would have thought you'd be able to make some new products in a couple of decades. Is anything at all new?"

"Well we had to get a few new imports of Puffskeins as the old ones either sold or died and we had to breed some new Pygmy Puffs for similar reasons, but apart from that… no." George admitted.

"How very boring."

"Don't you worry, we'll have a new stock of entirely original products out for Christmas. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes will very quickly become the best shop on Diagon Alley again."

At nine o clock, Fred and George opened the shutters to their shop and unlocked the door. People were already queueing up outside on the street to get into the shop as it was easily the most colourful and fun looking building in Diagon Alley. However, when their eyes fell upon both the twins, smiles faded from faces and melted into shock. As George opened the door and everyone filed in, customers muttered under their breaths to each other and pointed at Fred. But the shocked, quiet atmosphere soon transformed when Fred and George started doing what they did best- telling jokes and pulling pranks. They teased each other loudly and pulled pranks on customers when they came to the till to pay and within half an hour, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was buzzing excitedly.

Fred was having the time of his life. Feeling as though he'd only just left Hogwarts, he moved from stand to stand, showing off and recommending products. Nobody had asked him where he'd been, and nobody had asked George about the bandage that was wrapped around his head, but every new witch or wizard that walked through the door, covered in rain, stopped and stared at him for a few seconds before rushing to join the crowds inside. At one point, a young witch- probably about five years old- ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and refused to let go until her parents pulled her off, apologizing profusely.

Despite the excitement that filled the shop and the delighted faces that continued to file in, Fred favourite part of the day was when his old Quidditch teammates, Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet ran in, pushed past browsing customers and engulfed Fred and George in a bone breaking hug.

"Calm down Oliver," George said, "You'd have thought you hadn't seen me in a few decades!"

Fred glared at his brother.

"I don't believe it!" Oliver said, ignoring George and releasing the twins and beaming widely. "Angelina sent us an owl the other day explaining that you're ok and I've never been so relieved in my life!"

"I'm so glad you're alright," Alicia said without letting go of either of the twins which earned some very strange looks. "George has been impossible since you've been gone."

"So I've heard," Fred replied prying Alicia off him.

"It's been so weird without you; I haven't been able to look George in the eye for twenty years!"

Fred was still having a great time talking to Oliver and Alicia when the door swung open and Molly dashed in, tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong, Mol?" Fred asked her, kneeling down to her. "Where's Angelina?"

"I… I don't know," Molly sniffled. "I got… separated from… from everyone and I can't find anyone!"

"Don't worry, they'll come and find you all here."

Sure, enough, a few minutes later, Angelina, Hugo, Roxanne, Fred jnr. and Lily burst into the shop.

"She's over here, Angie," George called as they made their way over, the worry on their faces ebbing away.

"Thank goodness!" Angelina sighed, her hand on her heart as if to steady it.

When George went off to man the till for a while and Angelina had taken Molly, Roxanne, Fred jnr. and Lily away to look at the Pygmy Puffs, Oliver turned back to Fred, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Survive. I thought Percy saw you die, he was there! All of us went to your funeral, saw your coffin, saw you-"

"Don't say buried. You didn't see me actually be buried because when I woke up, I was lying in a coffin next to fifty other coffins!"

"But you weren't breathing, your heart wasn't beating, otherwise they wouldn't have put you in the coffin in the first place!"

"I don't know exactly what happened. I don't know what happened between the explosion where I was ' _killed'_ and waking up in a field a few days later!"

"But you must know how you survived," Alicia said nosily.

"Of course I do, but I'm not going to tell you here, not in front of everyone else. Come back to Grimmauld place later for dinner and I'll explain."

"We can't leave Jamie alone for that long, sorry."

"Jamie?"

"Our son. Katie, do you remember Katie Bell? Anyway, she's looking after him at the minute, but she has to leave soon to go to work. He's starting Hogwarts this year actually."

"So's Molly," Fred said, indicating across the room. "He can come too, and Katie if she's back from work. It'll be nice for Mol to meet someone that isn't her cousin before she goes to Hogwarts."

"He'll come back here later with Jamie and Katie if she can make it and when you close and have packed up, we can go back together."

"Seems like a plan," Fred agreed and waved goodbye to his friends.

The rest of the day was just as fabulous as the morning had been. People continued to stream in and Fred and George continued to crack jokes at every possible moment. As the afternoon drew to a close, customers slowly began to leave, arms full of shopping and Oliver, Alicia, Katie and a boy Fred assumed was Jamie, returned. Katie dashed across the room and threw herself at Fred, who turned just in time. He staggered back a bit and said, "Would you mind not strangling me on my first day back at work?"

She untangled herself but when she looked up, she wasn't smiling. Her lips were pursed together angrily and she slapped Fred across the face.

"Better?" Fred asked.

Katie punched him in the stomach, "Yes."

"Splendid," Fred replied, forcing a smile through the stabbing pain his chest had just attacked him with.

When the last of the customers had left, Fred and George went around the shop, flicking off lights and locking doors until there was only the six of them left in the shop- Angelina had already left with Molly, Lily, Roxanne and Fred jnr. to tell them about the four extra visitors for dinner.

They all walked back to Grimmauld Place, the only person who didn't really speak at all was Jamie, who remained quiet, looking slightly awkward. Jamie was tall, thin and handsome, with sleek dark hair and blue eyes. He had a very athletic build and Fred had no doubt that that was due to his parents- they had probably already taught him how to play Quidditch and had been training him for years.

When they reached the gardens of number eleven and thirteen Grimmauld Place, George passed a piece of parchment to Alicia, Katie and Oliver, who had all heard of Grimmauld place, but never visited and then finally Jamie, who looked extremely confused.

"Read the address and remember it," George told them. "Then if you focus hard on it, it should appear right in front of you."

Fred thought about the dirt covered door and the smashed, moss-eaten windows and soon found himself staring at the entrance to number twelve Grimmauld place. Clearly, the same thing had happened to the others as all four of them were looking shocked and George looked very amused. Fred pushed open the door and held it open for everyone else. George led them through to the kitchen where they joined everyone else at the table. Harry got up and hugged Alicia and Katie and clapped Oliver on the back before returning to his seat next to Ginny. As everyone but Molly had met each other before, Fred only needed to introduce her to everyone quickly.

"So, how did you do it?" Oliver asked, getting straight to the point. "And how come George has a bandage wrapped around his head?"

"I'm trying out new costumes for Halloween." George replied sarcastically, "I thought I'd try being an Egyptian mummy."

Alicia glared at him so Fred explained everything from the Quidditch World Cup, right up to visiting the island with George. Everyone silent all the way through, and when he'd finished, everybody stared at him in shock- except Ginny who looked as though she was about to kill him. Katie looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"That's so sweet!" she squealed.

"What?" Fred looked at her, "Sweet?"

"Yes! You made a vow with Malfoy to save your family."

"He was just too scared to die," Ginny mumbled quietly, but before anyone could protest, Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

"We are not starting that argument again," she peered over her shoulder, "Kreacher, would you like some help preparing dinner?"

"Kreacher appreciates the offer but Kreacher can make dinner by himself, thank you, Mrs Weasley."

"What are we having Kreacher?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher is making his masters and mistresses a dinner of lasagne and fresh bread," replied the house elf as he placed a dish in the oven.

"That sounds delicious, Kreacher, thank you," Mrs Weasley smiled.

About half an hour later, Kreacher served everyone a slice of lasagne and a piece of fresh bread. He took a seat next to Harry, who told him to have some dinner too. Everyone happily ate their meals, complimenting Kreacher on his cooking.

By the end of dinner, everyone was extremely full and Kreacher looked very proud of himself. They said goodbye to Oliver, Alicia, Jamie and Katie and then returned to their rooms for an early night. As he'd done the night before, Fred went to his brother's room first, however, he stayed longer this time as he began working on developing new products for the joke shop.

After a few hours, lots of broken quills and ink covered hands, the twins had come up with a basic model for the Sneezing Quills, although they hadn't quite got them to explode on a particular word, they just squirted ink everywhere whenever they fancied it. At half past ten, Fred finally left his brother's room and returned to his own as quietly as he could. Both Lee and Teddy were fast asleep so the room was silent as Fred lowered himself into bed and placed his head on his pillow.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The last week of the summer holidays was perfect. Fred and George went to work every single day, only frowning for half an hour every morning, when Daily Prophet reporters tried to fish the truth out of Fred. On Friday 31st August, the twins had finished developing their quills and started brewing a slightly edited version of Polyjuice Potion to start work on their Body Switching sweets. The only thing- apart from the Prophet reporters- that irritated Fred was the gradual increase of pain in his chest. Whatever magic the St. Mungo's healers had done was now beginning to fade and the wound had started bleeding and aching again. George was clearly having the same problem as on the Friday, he went upstairs to his room before even eating dinner. The minute he'd gone, Mrs Weasley began firing questions at Fred too.

"Are you feeling alright? Do you want to go to bed, I'll bring you up some dinner if you'd like?"

"I'm fine, mum. I'll go check that George's ok."

Fred followed his brother upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. "George? George, are you alright?"

He pushed open the door and slid into the room. His brother was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. When he looked up, George's face was pale and sweaty with a greenish tint.

"Take the bandage off," Fred told him, walking over to the bed and sitting next to him. "Let it get some air, it might help."

"Air, that magic, universal medicine," George replied, but nevertheless, he reached up and untied the bandage. Fred took it off him and threw it into the bin. He gasped and put a hand to his mouth. The cut was dripping with blood and bruised around the edges. The skin was green and pale.

"Lie down while I get some fresh bandage and a cool cloth," Fred told George, forcing him back down onto the bed.

Fred closed the door, breathing heavily. Was his own wound as bad as that? He went downstairs to the kitchen and opened a cupboard. As he reached for the box which contained healing potions, lotions and gels, Angelina appeared beside him.

"Is he alright?" she asked him quietly.

Fred didn't reply, but got out the roll of bandage and a cloth, went over to the sink and filled a bowl with water. Ignoring questions from Angelina who was persistently following him upstairs, Fred returned to his brother. Angelina gasped and ran towards George, who's eyes were half closed. She took the cloth and water off Fred as she passed him. She pulled up a chair and began to wipe away the thick blood. Weakly, George's eyes fluttered open he and looked across the room at Fred.

"I hope you know I completely and utterly blame you for this," he joked, his voice so faint that Fred had to move closer to hear him.

"I got hurt too! Surely that means we're equal!" Fred protested, laughing.

George pulled off what looked a bit like a smile, but with his pale face, he looked more like he had something stuck in his teeth. Once Angelina had cleaned up the blood as much as she could, she carefully wrapped George's head back up.

"Do you want your bandage changing too?" she asked Fred.

"What? Oh, no thanks, I'm fine."

"Fred, if the magic on me is fading off, yours probably is too," George said quietly, "Let her change it."

Reluctantly, Fred crossed the room and sat on the other side of the bed. He lifted off his shirt and unwrapped the bandage around his chest. Like George's, the wound was surrounded with blood and tinged green.

"Oh my god! Can't you feel it?"

"Not the cut itself," Fred replied, feeling slightly sick at the sight of the gash.

"I'll clean it up for you and bandage it," Angelina said, "Let me just get some clean water and a cloth." She got up, left the room and a few seconds later, her footsteps could be heard vanishing down the stairs.

"Can you really not feel it?" George asked him weakly.

"No, I guess I'm just more tolerant than you."

"I reckon I just got a worse injury and it's on my head, my brain could be permanently damaged."

"You don't have a brain to get damaged. I wouldn't worry too much. Besides, both my heart and my lungs were narrowly missed. I could have died too!"

"That's twice you've just avoided death, are you building up to being immortal?"

Before Fred could reply, the door opened again and both Angelina and Mrs Weasley, who looked very worried came in. Angelina was holding a fresh bowl of water and a clean cloth and looked slightly apologetic as Mrs Weasley pushed her aside and took the towel.

"I'm fine, mum, honestly. I have to be fine, for tomorrow, I have to see Molly off to Hogwarts."

"Your dad's gone to pick up Kat. She's going to stay overnight tonight and come to the platform tomorrow morning."

"Right."

"Now, you're going to lie down and rest."

"I don't need to. I just told you I'm fine!"

"You will both stay here and I will bring you dinner up later!" Mrs Weasley barked.

"Mum!"

"No, Fred. Lie down and let me clean that up."

Reluctantly, Fred lay back and rested his head on his pillow staring at the ceiling. He barely felt the cool cloth being wiped against his skin and payed no attention to his mother's tutting of disappointment. After about ten minutes, the room was silent. Angelina was sitting next to George, holding his hand while he slept and Mrs Weasley asked Fred to sit up so she could wrap the bandage around his chest. The minute she'd left the room, Fred got up and headed after her.

His hand was resting on the handle when Angelina said, "Where are you going?"

"Downstairs."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not staying in here all evening."

"You won't be able to go to King's Cross tomorrow morning if you don't rest. If you use all your energy now-"

"Then when I go to bed tonight, I'll get it back!"

"Fred," Angelina said, a dangerous tone in her voice. "Go back to bed. Now."

Scowling, Fred paced back across the room and threw himself onto the bed, face buried in his pillow, stubbornly. He lost track of time lying there but after a while, he heard Angelina get up and walk across the room. He thought that she was leaving until he realised that the footsteps were growing stronger, not fading.

"They're not going to heal, are they?" she asked him, voice quivering.

Fred shook his head, "I doubt it."

"There has to be a way!"

Fred rolled over to look at her. "There is a way. I'll visit that island as many times as it takes to find it if I have to."

Angelina looked over Fred's shoulder at George who was still pale and sweaty.

"I'll move to my room next door," Fred said easing himself out of bed. Looking grateful, Angelina moved out the way but Fred didn't go as he'd said.

He walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen where everyone was eating dinner. Mrs Weasley was heading purposefully towards the door, three plates in her hands. Somehow, she didn't notice him until he plucked one of the plates from her. She spun around and glared at him, but Fred ignored her and headed towards the table where he sat next to Molly. Mrs Weasley opened her mouth as if to say something but then swiftly shut it again and vanished upstairs, her lips pursed tightly.

Half way through dinner, Mr Weasley returned with Kat who looked amazed at the sight of the house. Willow padded up to her and Kat bent down to stroke the puppy. She looked around the table as though doing a silent head count.

"Are we missing a few people?" she asked.

"George is ill. He's upstairs with Angelina," Fred replied.

"Ill? Is everyone else alright?"

"Fine," Fred replied a little too quickly.

Kat raised her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Your stubborn husband is refusing to go to bed even though he's sick," Mrs Weasley said.

"You're sick?"

"I'm fine!" Fred shouted, getting to his feet. He stormed out the room and down the hallway. Placing a hand on the doorknob, he swung the door open and slammed it shut after him. Having no desire to return to Grimmauld Place until a lot later, he set off through the streets of London. He headed to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that there at least, he would get some peace.

He pushed open the pub door and left the buzzing streets of London. He looked across to the bar and was surprised to see that Tom, the usual barman, was not there. Instead, stood Neville Longbottom who had been two years below Fred at Hogwarts, and had shared a dormitory with Ron and Harry.

"Neville?" Fred exclaimed, shocked.

"Fred! Or are you George? No, you're definitely Fred!" Neville said, his eyes lighting up, "Or are you?"

"Yes, I'm definitely Fred," he replied, smiling. "How come you're here?"

"Hannah and I own it! Do you remember Hannah, Hannah Abbot? Anyway, we brought it ages ago."

"But, the other week, I came through and Tom was at the bar, he recognised me."

"Tom helps out sometimes, he says he misses it. When he retired, Hannah and I took over. We let him stay here for free because he mans the bar for free when we're busy. I've seen you come through twice every day with George, but I never said anything."

It had never occurred to Fred that it wasn't Tom behind the bar whenever he'd passed through on the way to work but now he knew, he didn't think it could have been more obvious. Tom wasn't tall and dark haired, in fact quite the opposite, but whenever Fred had walked past the bar, he'd been consumed in the excitement from being back at work.

"What can I get you?"

"Just a Butterbeer, please, mate," Fred replied, digging around in his pocket for some cash.

"You can have it free," Neville told him as they strolled back to the bar. "If you tell me where everyone else is. Why are you out on your own?"

"Just fancied a drink," Fred lied, gratefully accepting a tankard of warm butterbeer. "It's really crowded, I just wanted some air."

"If you wanted a drink wouldn't you have had the money out already?" Neville asked suspiciously.

"Not if you're incredibly disorganised. I heard that you're Herbology teacher at Hogwarts."

"Yes, it's great! I love it."

Fred thought changing the subject had been a good idea, but Neville proceeded to spend the next ten minutes excitedly talking about Hogwarts and how brilliant it was. Fred stayed in the bar for a good few hours, chatting and laughing and drinking unhealthy amounts of butterbeer.

Finally, at quarter to twelve, Fred got up and left the Leaky Cauldron, waving goodbye to Neville. He had fifteen minutes to get back to Grimmauld place before the thunder started and he got showered. In the dark, Fred struggled to find his way home so at midnight, the rain attacked and Fred was soaking within two minutes. He finally found his way back half an hour later, shivering and drenched. He placed a frozen hand on the door and pushed it open. As quietly as he could, Fred shut the door and crept upstairs to his room. He hung his clothes over the edge of his bed to dry and changed into his pyjamas silently, still shaking. Crawling into bed, Fred pulled the duvet up around his shoulder and closed his eyes.

The next morning was chaotic. Everyone rushed around collecting forgotten possessions and squeezing them into already full trunks. By quarter past ten, cases belonging to Rose, Molly, James, Albus, Angelina and Teddy were all stacked by the door, along with Pepper in her cage and the Potters' handsome barn owl, Mercury, in his. Mrs Weasley was having a very loud argument with George who had come downstairs a few minutes earlier, pale and still in his pyjamas, but complaining that he wanted to come.

"You will stay right here George Weasley!" Mrs Weasley shouted as though he was a naughty toddler. "You're not going anywhere like that!"

"Well, obviously I'll put some clothes on!"

"Mum, just let him come, it won't do him any harm," Fred said, yawning and very glad he hadn't yet been asked where he vanished to the previous night.

Without replying, Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen, and returned a few seconds later holding a few pieces of toast. She handed one to George and one to Fred, telling them that she would force them to stay in the house if they didn't eat it. With no idea why he wouldn't be allowed to leave- nothing was wrong with him-, Fred took the delightfully warm bread and nibbled it slightly before waiting for his mother's back to turn and leave feeding the rest to Pepper. She pecked his finger as he poked the toast through the cage and then grabbed the food in her beak happily.

"You're meant to eat the toast, not my finger," Fred grumbled, snatching his hand away and turning to George, "I'd get changed quickly, we're leaving in a few minutes."

Sluggishly, George trudged back upstairs, still munching on his breakfast. Fred entered the kitchen and sat next to Molly who was listening excitedly to James while he explained to her about Hogwarts.

"It's a beautiful castle," he was saying, "There're lots of secret passage ways and hidden entrances, but I wouldn't worry too much. Whichever house you're in, there will be someone to help you, or you can ask one of the teachers if you're lost. You'll probably be in Gryffindor, because you're a Weasley, and Weasleys are always in Gryffindor. If you are, I'll help you, and," he lowered his voice and leant in closer towards her, "I'll put a word in for you for the Quidditch team. Technically, you're too young, but I've never seen such a brilliant beater. No offence," he added to Fred, who was also listening and smiling.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Mr Weasley asked, entering the room and clapping his hands together.

There was a loud scraping of chairs as everyone got up at the same time and filed out the kitchen. George was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, fully dressed but still looking ill. The only reason he was going to King's Cross was because Angelina was leaving, as neither Fred jnr., nor Roxanne were old enough to go to Hogwarts. The two of them were staying at Grimmauld place with Mrs Weasley, Hugo and Lily.

When they left Grimmauld place, they all had to walk for a while before getting into four taxis, the drivers of which all looked very confused. Fred, who was sitting in a taxi with Molly, Kat and Mr Weasley, asked the driver to take them to King's Cross station, and the taxi rolled away from the kerb, followed by its friends.

They arrived at the station at twenty to eleven which meant that they were quite rushed as they wound their way through crowds of people towards platforms nine and ten.

Harry stepped forward with Albus first. They both leant against the metal barrier and, snap, vanished. Fred laughed at the astounded look on Molly and Kat's faces as Ginny and James imitated Harry. They too disappeared. George and Angelina followed Ginny and they were pursued by Mr Weasley and Molly.

"Just do what grandad does," Fred told Molly reassuringly, "Don't worry about not being able to get through, just trust it."

He watched as his daughter was engulfed by the wall before stepping forward and taking Kat's hand. Holding Kat in one hand and Pepper in the other, Fred casually walked toward the barrier and simply stepped through, without bothering to stop and lean against it. He looked at Kat who was beaming amazedly next to him and then made his way towards everyone else. They waited until they'd been joined by Teddy, Ron, Hermione and Rose and then all pushed through the crowds toward the train. Angelina and Teddy both vanished into the crowds to go to the very back of the train in the teachers compartment and everyone else packed their bags onto the train. Fred felt he was doing a rather good job of ignoring people's strange looks and whisperings as he handed Pepper to Molly. He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around to see Alicia and Oliver Wood smiling at him.

"Do you reckon Molly would mind if Jamie sat with her on the train?" Alicia asked. "He doesn't know anyone but her."

Fred looked down at Molly who smiled and said, "Of course he can. I don't know anyone either, it'll be nice to have someone to talk to."

Jamie smiled and muttered his thanks before stepping onto the train and placing his luggage in the same compartment that Molly's was in. Then, he returned to the platform to say goodbye to his parents as Fred turned to Molly.

"You'll love it," he told her. "I promise. Make the most of it."

Molly hugged Kat and asked, "Do I have to come back for Christmas?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"I'll write to you."

"And we'll write back," Kat told her. "Now, get on that train or you'll miss it."

With a final hug from her parents, Molly got onto the train with Jamie and waved as the train pulled away and Fred turned to Kat.

"She'll be fine," he told her as they went back to meet everyone else.

Just as he was about to pass through the barrier, Oliver ran up to him, "I would wait a while. They've got Daily Prophet reporters waiting on the other side of the barrier for you. We saw them on the way in."


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Do I have to come back for Christmas?" Molly asked, trying to fight back tears, she didn't want to leave her mum and dad for so long, she'd never really been away from them at all!

"Not if you don't want to," her dad smiled at her and she decided then that, of course, she'd come home to them for Christmas day.

"I'll write to you," Molly promised.

"And we'll write back," her mum replied. She too looked quite emotional, Molly wondered how hard it was for her mum to let her go to Hogwarts. "Now, get on that train or you'll miss it."

Her mum was trying to be strong, Molly could tell, so as she clambered onto the train with Jamie, she smiled as widely as she could and waved at them until the train turned the corner and they were gone.

Molly didn't know whether she was excited or nervous. Or both. Everyone had told her how fantastic Hogwarts was, and, at least she knew some of the professors. But what if Molly was awful at magic? What if she couldn't perform even the simplest of spells. She was so used to being top of the class, but now everything might change for her. She'd read a few of her school books, and tried to remember as much as she could, but as she sat opposite Jamie in their compartment, Molly couldn't remember even the smallest of facts.

"What house are you hoping to be in?" Jamie's voice suddenly exploded into her ears.

"What? Oh, I'd quite like to be in Gryffindor, everyone's been telling me that I probably will be. What about you?"

"I'm not sure. My parents were both Gryffindor, but I think I'd like to be either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. They don't seem to draw too much attention, and I prefer being quiet with a few good friends than to being popular with loads of loud friends."

It had only just dawned on Molly, that she'd never heard Jamie speak before. He had a smooth, gentle voice and his mouth always seemed to be smiling when he spoke. "If I were you, I wouldn't tell anyone who your dad is," he carried on.

"Why?"

"Because you'll attract attention. Everyone will want to know what happened and somehow, word will get to the Daily Prophet. I think the last thing your dad wants is for a massive article to be posted to the world about him."

Molly smiled, "That's a good point actually, I hadn't-"

They were interrupted when the compartment door flew open and two people appeared there, holding their cases and looking rather out of breath.

"Do you mind if we sit in here?" the girl panted, "We don't know anyone and every other compartment is full."

"Of course you can," Molly said, moving along so there was space, "Are you in your first year too?"

They nodded as they sat down, the girl next to Molly and the boy next to Jamie.

"I'm Rosie. Rosie Starke," the girl said, grinning, "This is Matt… Matt, erm?"

"Carpenter," he finished.

"So you aren't siblings?" Jamie asked.

"No, we just met on the platform."

"I do have three older sisters, though, Stella, Isla and Maia. They're triplets. They're so boring, never do anything fun, you'd have thought being a triplet would mean you could get away with stuff, especially when you're identical, I mean, you can just blame it on someone else, couldn't you? Then and again, you'd have thought that three identical girls were more than satisfactory for a family without another boy. Anyway, they're in fifth year, Gryffindor. The only thing they're ever excited about is going to Hogwarts, apart from that, they're about as entertaining as brick walls," Matt Carpenter said quickly.

Rosie Starke flicked her dark auburn, wavy hair out her face and smiled. She had sparkling green eyes and freckles that dotted her face. She was quite short and thin, with a cute, pixie-like face. Matt, however, was tall, and muscly, with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"I was delighted when I got my letter," Rosie said, and Molly was beginning to wonder if she ever stopped smiling, it was almost a bit unnerving, "Neither of my parents has magical blood so obviously, we were all expecting for me just to go to a normal high school."

"I wasn't expecting it either," Molly said.

"Are you Muggle-born too?"

"No, my dad's a wizard, but I didn't know that until I got my letter. What about you?" she asked Matt Carpenter.

"My parents both went to Hogwarts. They were so happy when I got my letter, they didn't think I would."

"Why not?"

"Because I've never shown signs of having any magic."

"Neither have I, don't worry."

The four of them chatted and laughed for a few hours. They talked about Hogwarts, what houses they wanted to be in, which lessons they were most looking forward to, stopping only to get some food from the old lady who pottered down the train selling food at midday. James came in a few times to check that Molly was alright, and then left again to find his friends. By mid-afternoon, Molly was sure she'd made three of the best friends she'd ever had and was desperately hoping that they'd all be in the same house.

"I'm glad we've come on a Saturday," Matt said, "It means we have tomorrow to find our way around the castle and explore a bit."

"It'll be useful to find out where we're going in advance. Apparently, the school's massive!" Rosie agreed.

"Yeah, apparently, there are loads of hidden passages and doorways!" Molly said excitedly.

"And the staircases move!"

"So do the paintings!"

"Forget that, there's a massive feast on the first day of term. That's what I'm looking forward to," Matt admitted. "It sounds great!"

They all fell silent for a while, watching the rain dance onto the windows delicately like miniature ballerinas.

"I hope we're all in the same house," Molly said suddenly, "It'd be such a shame if we weren't."

"We'd still see each other though. Sometimes different houses have lessons together apparently," Matt said. "Although, apart from the occasional class, and at meal times, the houses only see each other when they're passing on the corridors. They have different common rooms, and different tables in the hall."

"Well, occasionally is better than not at all," Molly said positively.

The dismal sky was beginning to darken outside as the four of them slipped their robes on over their shirts and jeans. Excitement was beginning to fill the train. For the first years, this was probably the biggest adventure they'd ever had, for the older students, returning to Hogwarts was like returning home after a long holiday.

As the train came to a gradual halt, there was a rush as everyone hurried out of the compartments and onto the platform. Molly, Rosie, Jamie and Matt all stayed close together as a booming voice called over the crowds.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere! Leave yeh stuff on the train, it'll all be taken up later."

Molly turned to see a very tall and very large figure waving first years toward him. She sighed in relief, realising who it was. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Games and Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts. Molly had only met Hagrid briefly, but at least she knew him.

"All righ' there Molly?" he said kindly as she approached with her friends. "Firs' years, follow me, this way!"

He turned and walked down the platform, looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure everyone was following him. The students reached a long lake on which stood lots of little rowing boats.

"No more than four to a boat," Hagrid told them as he clambered into the largest.

Molly carefully stepped onto a boat, Rosie Starke, Jamie and Matt Carpenter following close behind. No sooner had Matt sat down, then the boats began to move. The water was choppy and rough, but Molly didn't care. She peered around her as the boats turned a corner and gasped. Before them stood Hogwarts castle. It was more beautiful than Molly had imagined, with tall towers and bright lights. It was the most enchanting thing she'd ever laid her eyes upon and the closer they got, the more she noticed about the building. It seemed so complex, so unique that she couldn't take her eyes off it. They reached the bank, soaked from the rain and shivering, partly because of the cold, and partly with excitement. She would have thought it was a dream, except, even she couldn't dream up something this fantastical. They followed Hagrid up the bank and towards the castle where they were met by another teacher that Molly knew. Professor McGonagall. She peered sternly at them over her glasses but Molly could have sworn that she smiled at her briefly.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here. Follow me," she said and turned sharply. The new students had to hurry to keep up with her as she walked so quickly, her dark robes fluttering around her. They passed a large statue of Hogwarts with lots of tiny names engraved around the plinth. A small plaque read: _'Battle of Hogwarts, 1998'_ But Molly didn't have time to read any specific names on the model as Professor McGonagall led them past a towering set of doors and into a small room.

"Shortly, you will be sorted into one of four houses- Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. During your time at Hogwarts, your housemates will be both your friends and your family. You will share lessons with them and stay in your house common rooms. For now, however, I ask you to stay here. I will return momentarily."

There was a lot of noise as in the small room as everyone started discussing what Professor McGonagall had just said.

"That was the headmistress!"

"I want to be in Gryffindor!"

"How do you reckon they sort us?"

"I'm hungry!"

There were a few minutes of talking before the doors opened again and Professor McGonagall returned. She asked them to line up and then led them through another door and into the Great Hall. The first years looked around in amazement. Candles hovered in mid-air and the ceiling, which mirrored the weather outside, was grey and rumbled threateningly. Molly looked at James who sat at the Gryffindor table. He winked at her as she passed and gave her a 'thumbs up' gesture. The first years gathered at the front of the hall. Professor McGonagall stepped up and placed an old, ragged hat on a stool. She collected a piece of parchment and said, "When I call your name, you will step up and take a seat on the stool. You will put on the Sorting Hat and you will be sorted into your houses."

She unrolled the parchment and began to read the names from it. One by one, the students went up to the stage. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor.

"Carpenter, Matthew." Matt stepped up to the stool, his legs shaking and sat down. The hat was placed on his head and after a few minutes, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Following the loud roar from their table and looking very relieved, Matt headed over to the Gryffindors and sat next to James who clapped him on the back as though they'd been friends for years, not hours.

A few more people were sorted, and then, "Starke, Rosie."

Molly smiled reassuringly at Rosie as she made her way up towards the stool. Almost as soon as the hat had touched her head, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Still shaking slightly, Rosie joined Matt at the Gryffindor table and was greeted with even more cheering.

The list seemed to go on forever. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, until finally, "Weasley, Molly."

Ignoring the murmurs from the other students, Molly walked towards Professor McGonagall, feeling quite sure that her trembling knees were going to give way any second. She sat down and pulled the hat onto her head.

"A Weasley! Yet another Weasley," mumbled a gruff voice in her ear, "Well, I suppose, you'll have to be a Gryffindor!"

The last word, the hat shouted to the rest of the hall. Molly hadn't appreciated the volume of the student's cheering when she'd been standing waiting for her name, but as she walked to the Gryffindor table, her ears protested grumpily to the amount of noise that was exploding in them. She sat next to Rosie who hugged her and said, "Now we just need Jamie."

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Professor McGonagall said, "Wood, Jamie," and placed the hat on his head. Matt, Rosie and Molly all watched nervously, the hat seemed to take forever to decide, but finally, it called out, "Hufflepuff!"

Jamie's three friends watched, speechless as he walked straight past the Gryffindor table and joined his new house. They couldn't believe it. Their new friend had been separated from them already. The shouts and whoops in the halls were drowned out by a slurred buzzing in Molly's ears. The rest of the school was blurred, but Jamie remained in focus, as he slouched into his seat. Had Molly been stupid to think that Jamie would stay with her all year?

Their dampened mood, however, could not stay ruined, as the second Professor McGonagall had sat down at the centre of the staff table, possibly the biggest feast Molly had ever seen appeared in front of her. There was every food she could think of. Every meat, vegetable, sauce and salad imaginable and the entire school immediately began to grab some food. Every time a plate looked even close to becoming empty, it refilled itself. The evening was most enjoyable and made even better when the ghosts appeared through the walls and joined their house tables. But, for many of the students, the best was yet to come- dessert.

Pies, tarts, cakes and ice creams had soon replaced the main courses on the five long tables. After a long meal, everyone was exhausted and full to bursting. Professor McGonagall stood up and the hall fell silent.

"I have a few quick announcements before you all go up to bed," she said, "Firstly, everybody will do very well to remember that they should not go wandering about the corridors alone, especially at night. There will be staff on duty to find, and punish you if you are out of bed. Secondly, first-year students will be given a quick tour of the castle tomorrow by their heads of house. Please make sure you are all here for breakfast at half past eight at the latest. As usual, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to everyone. For our older students, if you are interested in playing for your house Quidditch team, please let your head of house know, try-outs will be held in a few weeks.

"You will find that your luggage has already been taken up to your dormitories. First years, follow your house prefects to your common rooms."


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The thunder seemed ten times louder than usual. Rain splattered on the window and the lightning flashed violently. Molly had stayed close to Rosie and Matt all the way through the corridors and to the Gryffindor common room. Their prefect had let them all in using the unusual password 'lingua leonis' and the first years all crowded around in the warm room. They had been directed to their dormitories and Rosie and Molly had climbed the stairs along with three other girls, Tara Newton, Amy Mitchell and Stephanie Howard. The five of them pushed open the wooden door that had a chipped sign reading 'First Years' on it and immediately began talking, introducing themselves and getting to know one another, before they changed into their pyjamas and scrambled into bed.

None of them slept. The combination of excitement and the booming thunder that exploded every minute made quite sure that none of the girls slept for a good few hours. When they finally closed their eyes, their sleep was restless and littered with crazy dreams. Rain continued to batter the windows all the way through the night; the lightning, although on the other end of the country, still seemed unnaturally bright, as though it were only striking the Forbidden Forest.

The next morning, Molly woke in the cosiest bed she'd ever been in. Around her, the dormitory was still extremely dark, so she reached out and lit her bedside lamp. The other girls all still seemed to be asleep and when Molly checked her watch, she realised why. It was 05:00 on a weekend morning. Molly doubted anyone woke up that early. She rolled over and tried desperately to go back to sleep, but she couldn't.

So, half an hour later with nothing better to do, Molly swung her legs out of bed and quickly got dressed. As she had not yet learnt any magic, she left her wand in its box on her bedside table safely and she pushed open the door. It squeaked, and she froze at the sound, afraid she had woken someone. She hadn't. As quietly as she could, Molly crept down the stairs and sat in one of the armchairs by the fire, which had already been lit and was burning brightly. The fire was so welcoming and even though she had nothing to do, Molly felt quite happy sitting watching the flames dance around each other as though they were playing a game.

Deciding that she'd write a letter to her parents to tell them that she'd arrived safely and had been sorted into Gryffindor, she climbed back up the stairs and got out some parchment and a quill. She wrote a quick letter home, mostly to reassure her mother that she was alright, and folded it in half.

"Take it home to mum and dad, Pepper," she said, stroking the owl's back.

Eyes sparkling, Pepper soared out of the open window and into the rain. Only a few seconds later, the owl had been engulfed by the clouds and was no longer visible. Molly sat on the window sill, enchanted by the storm. Even though she knew it wasn't natural, there was something about the weather that left Molly mesmerised. The continuous fall of tiny droplets, the perfect timing of every thunderclap, the immaculate shape of the lightning. It was so captivating, so beautiful. At about quarter to seven, Rosie and Amy Mitchell woke up, yawning and groaning. Molly stayed at the window while they dressed and then she returned to her bed to chat with them.

"How long have you been up?" Rosie asked Molly, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Ages. I woke up at about five and couldn't get back to sleep."

"I couldn't live with waking up that early!" Amy said, wiping her short black hair out her face.

Molly thought that Amy looked a bit like a mischievous elf. Her hair was so short, that it couldn't be tied up into a ponytail and she permanently had a cheeky grin fixed on her face. She had unnaturally pale skin and bright rosy cheeks.

"Can I see your wand?" Amy asked Molly, noticing the long box that lay on the cabinet.

"Yeah, of course," Molly said, handing over the box.

"Wow. It's beautiful. I've never seen a wand like that! What's it made of?"

"Silver birch."

"And the core?" Amy asked curiously, handing the wand to Rosie who was peering at it with extreme interest.

"Phoenix feather."

"Tailfeather?"

"No. Just a feather, from the wing, I think."

"And it works?"

"Yep. My dad ma- my dad didn't think it would either." Molly said, cursing herself inside.

In all the noise in the dorm, Stephanie Howard had woken up too and was sitting, staring at the wand, amazed.

"Is it really silver birch?" she asked.

"Yep. Couldn't be anything else," Amy said, taking Molly's wand from Rosie and took it to show Steph.

Steph had dark skin and long, black, frizzy hair and dark hazel eyes which lit up as she saw the beautiful wand. She tied up her hair and took the wand.

"It's amazing. Mine's so boring. Holly, dragon heartstring."

"Steph, everyone's is boring compared to Molly's," Amy said.

"It's just a wand," Molly said.

"I wonder who made it," Amy, who was clearly fascinated by her new friend's wand, said, "Was it Ollivander?"

"No. He said that he found it and sensed the magic in it," she paused, "or something like that."

"Wow."

"Honestly, it's not that brilliant," Molly protested.

"What's not that brilliant?" Tara Newton yawned, sitting up.

"Molly's wand. Look at it, Tara, it's beautiful!"

Tara wiped her sparkling blue eyes leant forward to take the wand. Like Rosie, she was muggle-born, she didn't really understand what was so brilliant about Molly's wand.

"I mean, it's pretty, but I don't get what's so amazing about it," she said, handing it back to Amy.

Tara's ginger hair was in two long plaits, which rested on her back. Her nose and rosy cheeks were freckled, making her look more like a Weasley than Molly did, which was saying something as Molly Weasley was, well, a Weasley.

A few minutes later, the five of them headed down to the common room together where they met Matt by the fire.

"James! James, will you help us find our way down to the Great Hall? We don't know where we're going," Molly asked him, desperately.

"You can follow me if you want."

So, the girls and Matt followed James and his friends out of the portrait hole and through the winding corridors towards the Great Hall. As they approached the doors, Molly, Rosie and Matt spotted Jamie walking towards them with a group of other Hufflepuffs. They told the Amy, Tara and Steph that they'd meet them later and then went to catch up with Jamie.

"Jamie!" Molly called as she ran across the entrance hall, but he didn't turn.

All three of them kept calling and calling, trying to catch up, but Jamie didn't respond. It was Matt who finally caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, but Jamie just shook him off.

"Leave me alone!" he snapped and returned to his friends from his new house, "I don't need you."

Molly didn't understand. It wasn't their fault that Jamie had been put into a different house. Why was he so annoyed? Nevertheless, slightly disappointed, Molly, Rosie and Matt all went into the Great Hall and sat at the table for breakfast. They only had time to gobble down a bacon sandwich before Angelina- or Professor Weasley- had come down from the staff table to take the first years on a tour. Molly looked around the hall and saw that Teddy and two other teachers had all come down to their house tables too.

"First years come over here, please," Angelina said, "I'm Professor Weasley, head of Gryffindor and flying teacher. If you have any problems, you come to me. Now, is everyone here?"

There was a collection of nodding between the Gryffindors as they got up ready to follow Angelina. She took them around the inside of the school first, to every classroom they'd be in that year, the toilets, library, owlery, staff room, hospital wing and back to the great hall. They passed doors which weren't really doors, old ripped tapestries which were actually entrances to abandoned parts of the castle and moving portraits which had to be stroked or tickled in a particular place to open and reveal a classroom.

Then, they went outside to the Quidditch pitch and broom shed before walking around the back of the castle to the greenhouses. After crawling through a particularly cramped tunnel, the Gryffindors emerged right in the middle of a staircase between the fourth and fifth floors.

The students returned to the Great Hall and Angelina handed out their timetables for the next morning. "You'll be expected to arrive at your lessons on time, with any due homework completed to high standards. Obviously, you'll behave in lessons and do as you're told or you'll lose points for your house, which you don't want, and face detention, which you also don't want. Now you can all go back up to the common room or go outside if you'd rather enjoy the sun, unless you have any more questions."

There was mass excitement in the common room that night. Everyone was so looking forward to their lessons the next day and the room was alive with chatter and laughter. As the night lengthened, people began to vanish into their dorms for bed. When Rosie and Molly left the room at 10:00, there weren't many people at all. Three identical girls huddled in one corner. Molly could only assume that they were the three elder sisters of Matt- Maia, Stella and Isla. A group of fifth-year boys sat in the middle of the common room, talking very loudly. Rosie and Molly were as quiet as they could be while they changed into their pyjamas and scrambled into bed so that they didn't wake up Tara, Amy or Steph. Even though they hadn't had any lessons yet, Hogwarts already felt like the best holiday Molly had ever been on. She couldn't wait for tomorrow when she'd experience the school properly.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Fred woke up on Monday to an owl sitting on his face, which was definitely a first. As Angelina was at Hogwarts and Kat had moved back to her actual house rather than staying at Grimmauld place, Fred had moved into George's room, which meant that Lee had a room all to himself. Fred hadn't wanted to leave George alone, as he'd been getting more and more ill every hour. Mrs. Weasley kept saying that he shouldn't have gone to the station, but Fred didn't see what difference it made. In his opinion, the 'fresh' London air would surely help rather than worsen his brother's illness. Mrs. Weasley had contacted St Mungo's again and they'd had a response immediately saying that they'd send someone over.

But Fred was not expecting his daughter's owl to be sitting on his head and pecking his nose when he woke up. Groaning, he sat up and took the letter off the owl's leg. Slightly worried, he unfolded the letter and scanned it. He sighed in relief and put it down next to him. Molly was only telling him that she'd been sorted into Gryffindor. He smiled as he read that James had been helping her find her way around the school. As George was on the bed, Fred had been sleeping in the armchair by the window, which wasn't at all comfortable. Not that Fred minded. He got up and walked over to the bed where his brother lay. George didn't stir at all when his brother sat on the edge of the bed. Fred placed his hand on George's forehead and quickly removed it again, feeling as though his hand had just been placed into a furnace. He desperately hoped that the healers at St Mungo's could help George, it was horrible seeing him so lifeless and pale.

Fred crept to the kitchen and got a glass of water and a cool damp, cloth. No one else was in the there when he went down so, figuring that they must still be asleep, he snuck silently back up the stairs and returned to George's room. His brother was still lying motionless on the bed when Fred opened the door, so Fred had to literally force him to drink the water by tilting back his head and trickling it down his throat. George's mouth closed as he swallowed and Fred unwrapped the bandage from around his head.

The guilt that drowned Fred was almost as sickening as the sight of the wound on George's head. For only a few days, everything had been perfect for the twins. Back to normal. But now, Fred understood how his whole family must have felt for the last twenty years. Looking at his brother, skin pale and clammy, with shallow breath and dangerously faint pulse, was as horrifying as looking at his dead body.

For the last few days, all Fred had done was look after George and work on new products for the joke shop. Alone, he'd developed and finished models for a variety of products. Fire Fungus was a small mushroom that acted like a candle and produced any scent that the user wishes it to. There had been some interesting smells coming from the twin's room for a while, but they seemed to have sorted it out. Other products included Personal Mood Clouds, which were small microclimates that followed the user around and changed to reflect their mood, and Bad Hair Spray, which was designed to give a serious case of bedhead with only one spray. Several copies of the products were sitting on the window sill as Fred began work on his new idea, Vruit and Fegetables, which were raw vegetables disguised to look like pieces of delicious fruit. He was hoping to give someone a surprise with his first product, an onion orange.

Just as he was about to try to transform the first onion's appearance, the door opened and Mrs. Weasley came in holding a barn owl on her arm.

"Molly's in Gryffindor," she said.

"I know, I got a letter from her this morning."

"Angelina's worried about you and your brother. She's asking after you," Mrs. Weasley continued, handing Fred the letter, "How is George?" she asked when he had lowered the letter.

"Terrible," Fred sighed. "I tried to give him some water this morning, but I ended up forcing it down his throat. When are the healers coming?"

"Later today, hopefully. I was just beginning to enjoy everything being back to how it used to be, too."

"Well, with any hope, it won't be long before everything is back to normal for good. Is everyone else alright? No more injuries or illnesses?"

"No, I checked on everyone this morning. They're all fine."

"Good."

"I asked the healers if they'd take a look at you too, just so you know."

"Please tell me I misheard that."

"I'm afraid not. I can't have you getting as ill as George, we need a laugh around here."

Fred got up and picked up a can of Bad Hair Spray from the window-sill.

"If you want a laugh, spray this over someone's hair next time you see them."

"What is it?" Mrs. Weasley asked suspiciously- she'd never fully trusted the twin's products.

"Bad Hair Spray. I promise it isn't dangerous, I invented it myself. It just gives whoever's hair is sprayed with it the messiest hair imaginable."

"How long does it last?"

"Twenty-four hours exactly, but it begins to wear off after twenty."

Still looking uncertain, Mrs. Weasley left the room, holding the spray. While this probably should have made Fred feel better, he actually found himself sitting on the floor again, staring at his un-transfigured onion and feeling rather miserable. If even his mother was willing to use one of his joke products, things really were serious. She'd never encourage them to use their inventions, especially around the house, yet now she was walking away with every intention of using one herself.

"The world's gone mad," Fred muttered to himself.

"That's the truest thing I've heard in a long time," said a very weak voice from the other side of the room.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," Fred said, grinning, "Someone told you yesterday that you looked ill."

"I still don't believe that," George said sarcastically, "I can't see anything wrong with me."

"Well, I'd be very surprised if you could see your own forehead."

"What did my forehead do to you?"

"Your forehead needs a shower. It's filthy."

George laughed, "What's that?" he said, eyes fixed on the letter.

"It's from Angelina," Fred said. He got up and handed the letter to George, who read it silently.

"Please tell me that you'll write back telling her that I'm fine."

"But that would be a lie."

George swung his legs out of bed and Fred glared at him, "What are you doing?"

"Getting up," George said, standing shakily and moving towards the windowsill.

"When you fall over, I promise, I will laugh at you."

"What are all these?"

"New joke shop products I came up with. That's a Fire Fungus, it's a bit like a scented candle, but you can make it smell however good or bad you want it to. There are over a hundred different scents."

"And this?"

"Personal Mood Cloud."

"Which is…"

"Let's just say that if I gave one to the people in this house, the entire place would be flooded with rainwater in about an hour. They sense how someone is feeling and turn the emotion into a weather."

"So, if someone was feeling very happy, they'd have a personal sunshine above their head?"

"And if they were very angry they'd have a mini tornado," Fred confirmed.

George picked up the last item on the window sill, "So, this is?"

"Bad Hair Spray. With any luck, you'll see what that does at some point today," Fred said, winking.

Getting down the stairs was a slower process than usual. Fred could tell that George was trying to walk as normally as he could, but he almost tripped several times and Fred had horrible images of his brother tumbling down two flights of stairs.

"What did you mean when you said that I'd see what Bad Hair Spray did?"

"I gave a can to mum," Fred said cheekily.

"Does she know what it does?"

"Yes."

"And she agreed to use it?" George whistled, "The world has gone mad."

The two of them finally reached the bottom of the wooden stairs and entered the kitchen where everyone was sitting, eating breakfast. When she saw her dad, Roxanne jumped up, beaming, and ran towards him. She tackled George in a hug that almost knocked him off his feet.

"Where's your brother?" George asked, looking around the table.

"He went to work with Uncle Ron and Grandad. Apparently, he thinks that because he's called Fred Weasley too, then nobody will notice the difference between him and the actual Uncle Fred."

"What a smart idea," Fred said sarcastically, "The only problem is that he's about half the height of me and has never run a shop before."

"Once you see past that, I'm sure no one will notice a thing," George said.

It was at that moment when Mrs. Weasley hurried into the kitchen. She didn't notice George at first, walking straight past him, but half way to an empty seat, she stopped and turned around.

"Ah, there you are, mum," Fred said cheerfully, ignoring the glares she was sending George, "I don't suppose you have any hairspray, do you? I can't find any anywhere and my hair isn't behaving very well this morning."

It was possibly the most un-Mrs. Weasley thing that anyone had ever witnessed.

"Oh, yes dear, I'll just run and get some for you now," she said, grinning mischievously and leaving the room.

She returned a few minutes later with the can of Bad Hair Spray gripped in her hand and she passed it to Fred who styled his hair in the most peculiar way possible and removed the lid from the can. Pretending to press the nozzle, he raised the can to his hair, but his finger didn't actually touch the top of the bottle.

"Are you sure there's some in here, mum? It seems to be empty," Fred said, trying desperately not to laugh.

"Does it really? How odd, I used it just this morning." She took the can back off him.

She shook it and listened for the slosh of liquid inside and then turned so the nozzle was facing the back of Ginny's head. Ginny, who was paying no attention whatsoever, got a bit of a surprise when the soft spray hit her hair. She didn't even have time to raise a hand before _poof_ , her hair was sticking up in every angle possible.

Fred, George and Mrs. Weasley burst out laughing and were quickly followed by everyone but Ginny. Her head looked rather like a recently exploded ginger firework. The roots of her hair were tatty and tangled and the ends had split. No one could control their laughter as Ginny leapt to her feet and stormed out the room, but not without flashing a rude gesture at Fred and George, who had almost fallen off their chairs because they were laughing so much. Mrs. Weasley, still chuckling, placed two plates of scrambled eggs in front of the twins, which they demolished quickly. Just as they had finished, Ginny returned, looking- if possible- more ridiculous than before.

She'd clearly tried to fix her hair by brushing it down, but putting the hair brush through it had stuck it all together and it now looked like a wall sprouting vertically from her head.

"Nice hair, Ginny," Fred chortled as she came in.

"I just hope that when the healers from St Mungo's come, they check your brains out too. I'd be concerned if I were you."

"Well you're not me so you don't need to worry," Fred said.

"You always used to enjoy our jokes," George reasoned.

"And then I grew up- unlike you two. It would seem that idiots don't get any maturity or sense."

"That's weird because I would have thought that you'd need some decent brain cells if you were going to start your own business and open a shop," Fred said.

"Don't forget that you don't have any sense, Fred, so you if you think that you need brains to open a shop, you'd probably be wrong."

"But, George, you're an idiot too, so nothing you say would be sensible either!"

"Fred, I do believe we've been caught out!"

"Caught out by someone with decent brain cells too."

"You are both hilarious," Ginny said fiercely.

"Why thank you. I've been led to believe that those who are witty, are quite intelligent. You need to be clever to make good puns."

"You need to be clever to make bad puns, too," George teased.

"You'd know that, wouldn't you?" Ginny snapped.

"I don't know, I don't have enough sense," Fred said.

Harry, who had looked torn between laughing at his wife or comforting her, said, "Ginny, calm down, they were just trying to cheer everyone up, they didn't mean any harm."

"Harry's right, Ginny. If we meant harm, we would have lit a fire on your head," Fred said. "It'll begin to wear off in about twenty hours and this time tomorrow, you'll be completely fine."

"You might not be, though," Ginny grumbled.

"Now, now. It's not as though your hair has been permanently ruined," Mrs. Weasley said, collecting the breakfast plates. "The spray will wear off in a day."

"But what if I want to do something before tomorrow?"

"We all agreed yesterday that no one would go anywhere by themselves, just in case. Are either of you going to write back to Angelina?"

"I'm going to," George said.

"I'll reply to Molly and George is going to reply to Angelina and then we'll send them back together with Pepper."

The twins got up and returned to their room slightly irritated but mostly amused by how well their prank had worked, especially as their mother had helped them.

They both sat down to write their letters and then tied them to Pepper's leg. Before she flew out the open window, Pepper nibbled their fingers affectionately.

The twins spent the rest of the morning changing the appearance of vegetables into fruits, but decided that they probably shouldn't try to trick anyone else after the Bad Hair Spray fiasco that morning.

Just after lunch, three healers from St Mungo's could be seen gazing confusedly at the space between number eleven and thirteen, Grimmauld place. Mrs. Weasley hurried out to save them and returned a few moments later, leading the three healers into the kitchen.

So, after a very enjoyable morning, the twin's day definitely worsened. Most of their afternoon was spent being poked and prodded. They were given various potions, and countless spells were fired at them. After about two hours, they still hadn't managed to heal anything. Both wounds were still bleeding, and the skin around the gashes looked as infected as ever, if not more. All three of the healers looked completely perplexed.

When Mrs. Weasley came in to check on them, she was told that they had no idea what was wrong with the twins and that they doubted anything could really be done.

"Excellent," Fred said. "Does that mean we can go back to living our lives without being hassled by baffled healers?"

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley warned.

"What? We're both fine, we don't need to be treated as though we're disabled!"

"Your brother was anything but fine yesterday!"

"That was yesterday. I'm fine now. Completely fine!" George replied.

"Neither of you is fine," one of the healers said quietly. "If we don't find a cure for you, then I expect that you'll both be dead in less than a few months. The bleeding is too consistent."

"So? We still have time! We have time to find a cure, to fix it," Fred said optimistically, while his mother's face fell.

"I want both of you to check into St Mungo's tomorrow morning," the healer instructed, "We have professional equipment at the hospital, there might be something more we can do. When you arrive, say you need to speak to me, Madam Nurta."

"Right, thank you," Fred said, turning away and sighing.

Mrs. Weasley showed the healers to the front door and then returned to the boy's bedroom, tears in her eyes.

"I want both of you to go back to that island," she said, "Find the cure, I don't care what you have to do to get it. I only just got one of you back, I'm not losing both of you, not this year."

"Mother, are you feeling ok?"

"Fine," she sniffled, "Why?"

"Well, this morning, you pulled a prank on Ginny and now you want me and George to go back to that island!"

"I'm putting you in danger so you can save your own lives."

"That makes no sense."

"Please, boys. Just go. Now."

So, without another word, Fred and George disapparated to reappear on the strange island staring at each other in shock.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"I'll transform," George said.

"You'll what?"

"I'll transform," George repeated. "Into a fox."

In everything that had happened, Fred had completely forgotten that his brother was an animagus.

"What good will that do?"

"If I can get close enough to find out what they're doing, then I might be able to hear something that will help."

"But what will I do?"

"Follow me. Stay out of sight and maybe see if you can snoop around a bit."

"I doubt they'd have the cure lying about on a piece of spare parchment," Fred pointed out.

"But still see what you can find. There might be something about the storm."

With that, George began to shrink and shrink until he was left standing on all fours. Then, ginger fur began to sprout from every piece of skin and his hands and feet shrunk, his fingers moved together to form small white socks on his paws. A long bushy tail formed and his ear slowly transformed so that it was sharp and pointed. Whiskers emerged from his face, and his eyes contracted to small, black circles. The cut on his head was barely visible through the thick fur.

George turned around and plodded through the trees, Fred following close behind, his wand raised. After a while, they reached the small bay where several masked guards were patrolling. Why was it always this area where the men were stationed? Fred stayed tucked behind a tree as George slipped through the bushes and strolled onto the beach. A thought suddenly struck Fred- what if they didn't let George anywhere near them? Surely, if what they were guarding was so precious, they wouldn't hesitate to kill a stray fox.

But it was too late. George was already making his way steadily down the sand… and he'd been noticed. A few of the men were pointing at the fox and seemed to be trying to decide what to do. Some of them had pointed their wand at George, others just looked plainly confused. Thankfully, George seemed to have noticed this as he stopped and began sniffing at the ground in a small area. He snuffed about on the ground and retreated towards Fred slightly, before turning and walking down the bay. Looking slightly relieved, the masked men lowered their wands and let George wander down the beach. However, after a few seconds, George turned around, nose still pressed to the ground, and came back the other way. At this, the guards raised their wands again, and the more George went up the bay, the more threatened they looked. Spotting the protective looks on the men's faces, George stayed where he was for a while, digging in the sand. Fred, however, didn't hang around. He scrambled silently out from behind the tree and, staying concealed in the trees, hurried up the bay. He stepped over bushes and ducked under low hanging tree branches.

Fred clambered over the foliage until he reached the very edge of the bay. To his great relief, there were no guards. As quietly as he could, he tip-toed into the middle of the beach and looked around. If he'd gone too far, then surely there would be protection from this side as well, but if he was in exactly the right place there would be guards there too. Either way, Fred felt as though he'd just walked straight into a trap. He had no idea which way to go.

Completely baffled, Fred decided to go back the way he'd come, grateful that the rain had stopped drizzling for a while. He kept his wand at arm's length and twitched at even the smallest of noises. The beach seemed much longer than it had a few moments ago, but Fred soon had to sprint back into the woods when a large group of people came into view. There were about twice as many guards as there were in the area which Fred had left George in; he had no clue how he would get past them.

It took him ages to decide what to do, but after peeking out from behind a tree several times, Fred had a plan.

He disapparated and reappeared only a few metres away, but the loud crack of his vanishing had grabbed the attention of the guards. They flooded into the woods, searching for the source of the crack. Fred ran onto the beach and hid behind a boulder.

"What was that?" one of the guards said to another as they returned to the beach.

"I don't know, but I hope they didn't see anything."

"It might have just been a bird."

"Making that loud crack? I highly doubt that."

"If you ask me, it sounded like someone apparating," said another guard as he joined his colleagues. He had a strangely familiar voice, but Fred couldn't place it as though it belonged to someone he had known a very long time ago.

"You don't think it's that kid that keeps coming over. I'm getting sick of the trouble he's causing."

"But the fact he keeps coming back means that he hasn't found anything out. It means that we're doing our job."

"I reckon he's after something more than the cure to the wounds that Kieran gave him."

"I don't care what he's after, but if he ever comes back I'm going to make sure I kill him. I was so close to getting him last time," Fred had only just recognised one of the voices- the man who he'd kidnapped and fought with the other week. The other man's voice, however, still nagged at the back of his mind. He knew that he knew that voice, the man it belonged to.

"But, if he is after something else, you don't think he knows about the plans, do you?"

"I don't think so, when he was talking to me, he seemed interested in finding out what we were up to, he has no idea."

The men fell silent for a while and Fred tried desperately to control his breathing. It had been rapidly speed up while the men were talking, and now he was quite sure that his heavy breaths were going to alert them to his presence.

"Do you reckon it's safe?"

"What?"

The man lowered his voice, "The bird, obviously."

"Of course it is!" The man with the familiar voice snapped, "No one but us knows how to get to it."

"I still don't know why it's so important."

"How many times will I have to explain it to you?"

Fred silently begged the man to explain.

"A few more, apparently."

"As I explain yesterday, the bird was once owned by Albus Dumbledore. It has the power to heal most wounds and that includes those caused by magical objects or spells. The phoenix can also stop some spells, including Unbreakable Vows."

"So if they find the bird, they can stop the Vow?"

"Yes, but he has to find the bird and figure out how to use it."

"It's hard to figure out how to use it?"

"Of course it is!"

"So why are we keeping it locked up?"

"Because it's a smart bird! It'll find the boy and help him break it which is why we need to keep it hidden. Have you any idea how much power it takes to imprison a phoenix? The entire island would be glowing and flashing strange colours with the charms we've been using and anyone would find that weird. The last thing we want is for a Muggle to come snooping. Our little thunderstorm makes sure nobody spots us at night."

"Oh."

Fred stayed hidden behind the boulder, heart pounding. Fawkes the phoenix was the key and could heal his and George's wounds! But how would he get there, past all the guards? He needed a distraction. Just as Fred had started to think of ridiculous ideas to get past the men, a fox appeared beside him and nudged him on the shin.

"Can you do what you did back at the other bay?" Fred asked quietly and the fox nodded.

Peeking around the boulder, Fred saw his brother plod along the beach. Immediately, the guards spun around and pointed their wands at George. The fox stopped, ear pricked up and eyes wide. One of the men stepped towards George and kicked his leg out. The fox scampered away, tail sticking up. The man who had lashed out, pointed his wand out and started firing spells at George, each of which, he narrowly avoided, skipping from side to side and jumping up. Eventually, George ran for cover behind the boulder with Fred.

"Are you alright?"

The fox nodded.

"Did you get hit?"

The fox shook its head and had just sat down when suddenly, it turned sharply to look at Fred, eyes alight.

"What?"

George stuck his nose in Fred's pockets and Fred turned them out. A single Fire Fungus rolled onto the bay and the fox grinned as Fred understood. He crept into the forest and placed the mushroom in amongst a cluster of bushes. With his wand, he tapped the top and a flame burst into life. Fred covered his nose with his sleeve and placed his wand above the flames and focused on the foulest smell he could think of- Pygmy Puff dung.

" _Engorgio_ ," he muttered quietly and then ran back to the boulder where George was waiting as the flame grew.

Soon, a truly disgusting smell had filled the bay and a small fire had begun to spread through the forest. Rather stupidly, all the men scattered and sprinted into the trees to search for the source of the fire. Fred and George also started to run, but not into the trees. The two of them headed towards the area where the guards had been standing, and started to search. George, who was still a fox, dug at the sand while Fred checked over stones and bushes. Gagging on the rancid scent of the fire, Fred ran over to George, who was digging madly at a particular patch of sand. He looked pointedly up at Fred, who immediately got the message. Telling his brother to move back, Fred pointed his wand at the patch of sand and blew a deep hole in it. The sand fell away, creating a flawless, circular tunnel, which, without hesitation, George leapt into. Feeling that his brother had been rather stupid, Fred peered down the hole. It didn't look like an area which had been blown up; the passage was perfectly round and seemed to go on forever. Fred stepped forward, and plummeted down after George.

The ground was hard beneath Fred when he landed, and he was immediately glad that he hadn't fallen on his feet. Instead, he lay on his aching back, groaning in discomfort. Fumbling around in the darkness for his wand, Fred listened for anything that might tell him where he was.

" _Lumos_ ," he muttered and the strange cove was illuminated. George stood, human again, in the back corner. Even in the dim light, Fred could tell that his brother was extremely pale and was having to lean on the wall for support.

"Are you alright?"

George only nodded and Fred turned his head to look around the rest of the cave. The only way out seemed to be directly above him and there was no other source of light. As George lit his wand, Fred stood and looked at the back wall of the cave. Chained to the stone was a beautiful fiery red bird, whose feathers were streaked with deep orange and yellow. But Fawkes didn't stand proudly like he used to. Two bright wings were strained with the weight of holding his weight and his head dropped down. Fred stepped forward and supported the phoenix's weight. Fawkes wasn't dead, that much Fred could tell. At his touch, the bird had raised his head slightly and cooed gently. It was no wonder he hadn't escaped. The chains were so tight and must have been causing the bird so much pain, he wouldn't have the energy or the power.

"Can you undo these chains, George?"

Weakly, George stumbled over to join his brother and pointed his wand at the locks. They did nothing but shake slightly and tighten around Fawkes' wing. The bird squawked unhappily as George kept firing spells at the chains in useless attempts to undo them. Fred put a hand out to stop his brother, "You're only making it worse." He handed George his wand and placed his hand into his trouser pockets. After fishing around in amongst useless bits of parchment and discarded fluff and buttons, Fred removed his hand and placed it again in his jacket pocket.

"Aha!" he said triumphantly, showing George the small metal hair slide he had clasped between his fingers. "Shine the light on the lock."

Voices began to shoot down the hole above the twins. Angry calls erupted into the cove. Quickly, Fred slid the clip into the key hole and began to twist it one way and turn it another. The shouts were getting louder and Fred's sweaty fingers slipped on the metal. Finally, he managed to pop open the first lock and, with one arm around Fawkes to support the bird, Fred stepped over to the second latch. It proved a lot harder with only one hand and in the dim light which shook in George's unsteady grasp. Above them, the masked men were gathering around the hole, in only a few seconds, the twins would have company.

 _Click._

The lock burst open and fell to the floor with a clatter. With Fawkes tucked safely in one arm, Fred grabbed George's hand and, just as a man landed in the cove with them, they were gone.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Molly sat with Matt and Rosie on Monday morning at breakfast, her insides cartwheeling with excitement. She was quite looking forward to her morning- Charms with Professor Flitwick then Defence Against the Dark Arts with Teddy.

The Gryffindors shared their Charms lesson with the Hufflepuffs, and Molly was desperately hoping to be able to speak to Jamie. Pepper hadn't been with the other owls when the post arrived that morning, so Molly could only hope that her letter had got home to her parents. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she stood, still munching on a piece of warm toast. Together, Matt, Rosie and Molly walked out the Great Hall, passing Matt's sisters, who didn't even acknowledge their brother.

"Miserable toads, I wish they'd learn how to smile. Sometimes I wonder how they're going to get a job working anywhere but a graveyard! None of them have laughed since they were at least three," Matt muttered after greeting his sisters and receiving nothing but a glare in return. "Can either of you actually remember how to get to Charms?"

"I think so," Rosie replied, her voice slightly uncertain. "I wish we were given maps."

"A map of this place?" Matt said, "It'd have to be on the world's biggest piece of parchment!"

They reached Professor Flitwick's classroom to find Tara, Amy and Steph already there, talking excitedly with a group of Gryffindor boys. Molly, Rosie and Matt joined them as the Hufflepuffs came around the corridor corner. Jamie stood amongst them, chatting to the same boys he'd been with the previous morning. Molly strode over and stood in front of Jamie.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I wanted so badly to be in the same house as you, I really did, but it isn't my fault and-"

But Jamie said nothing and barged past Molly, knocking her to the floor. Rosie came over to help her up and said, "At least you tried. He's just being stupid now."

"I wouldn't be too bothered if it weren't for the fact my dad is friends with his parents."

"They won't let this get in the way, they'll understand what's happened if you explain. Just because two people are friends with each other, it doesn't mean their kids have to be," Rosie comforted as they filed into the classroom and took their seats at the back of the room.

The rest of the lesson was very enjoyable. They tried a simple spell, which nobody quite mastered, but a few people including Molly and Rosie, had come very close. Many people admired Molly's wand, and at one point, Professor Flitwick took it from her and didn't give it back for quite a while as he thought it was so beautiful.

When the bell rang, they made their way through the many corridors of Hogwarts to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and queued up outside. When Teddy came out of the room, he smiled and winked at Molly before letting the Gryffindors in.

"Everyone, put your books and quills away, we're doing a practical lesson today," Teddy said as he closed the door, "Is everyone here?"

There was a brief scramble as everyone hurried to put their books back into their bags and place them on the floor next to the door before standing in the middle of the room, which had been cleared of desks. Teddy strolled to the front of the classroom and opened a cupboard. From it, he took a large crate which he placed on the wooden floor in front of him. Bending down, Teddy took a small, spherical object from the crate, it looked like a small bludger.

"This ball will fire a simple disarming charm at you. It is your job to deflect it, and keep hold of your wand. The movement is simple enough, but you have to really concentrate on keeping your wand in your hand else you'll be left defenceless."

He carefully showed the class the movement- a long swish across the body, from hip to shoulder- and said, "Hopefully by the end of the lesson, most of you will be able to keep your wands so in a few lessons we can move on to disarming each other. Does anyone have any questions?" when no one said anything, he continued, "Please come and collect a ball from the front and find some space in the room. You may need to balance it on a surface so that it's level with your shoulder."

Teddy wondered around the room, correcting people's wand movement while everyone tried desperately to keep their wands from flying across the room.

It wasn't long before the class became a war zone. Wands flew everywhere, hitting others on the head and people tripped and fell after being disarmed with a particularly strong spell. At one point, Matt's wand was sent across the room with such force, it landed roughly on a desk and turned it into a goat. By the time Teddy managed to corner the goat and turn it back into a desk, it had managed to eat half of Tara's textbook and at least three legs of various chairs and tables. Pieces of parchment lay chewed across the floor, quills which were snapped in half or bent at strange angles, were strewn across desks. Ink splattered the stone walls, the bottles shattered and in pieces.

Once he'd restored the classroom to its original state, Teddy calmed the class and set them to work again, defending themselves against the spells.

"Try and make sure you stop before your hand passes your shoulder, Molly," he advised as he bent down to pick up her wand and handed it to her.

Molly turned back to the black ball and held her wand down at her hip. The ball buzzed and bleeped, letting Molly know it was going to fire the spell at her. Concentrating as hard as she could about keeping a tight grip on her wand and picturing herself standing with it in her hand, she swished it up in one fluid movement. As the spell hit her wand, Molly felt a jolt of power as it tried to dislodge it. She stumbled back and tripped under the pressure, but to her utter delight, kept hold of her wand. She beamed up at Teddy from the floor who said happily, "That was brilliant, now just try to stay on your feet."

Molly got up to see the rest of the class gawking at her. Ignoring their stares, she spun back to face the black ball which had rolled over when the spell had rebounded. She set it up right again and waited for it to buzz.

By the end of the lesson, only Molly had got anywhere near deflecting the spell and Matt had somehow managed to turn his hot pink. After replacing Matt's, Teddy told everyone to take the spheres away with them to practice for homework. After running up to the common room to put away their bags, Molly, Rosie and Matt headed back to the Great Hall for lunch. They were looking forward to the last lesson of the day- potions- but her next lesson, History of Magic, didn't sound too thrilling.

They were right to not expect much. History of Magic was not appealing at all. Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher in the school, wasted no time whatsoever in beginning the lesson. The second everyone had taken their seats, he began drawling on. His voice was the most unenticing thing in the world and soon, everyone in the class was staring at the table, bored out of their minds. Molly and Rosie spent the lesson doodling on their parchment and playing hangman, which somehow animated to look like a real man swinging from a noose every time they guessed a letter wrong. When Rosie finally won a round, the noose untied and the man jumped down from the platform, dancing and cheering silently.

It was a huge relief when the bell sounded and everyone snapped out of their trance like state and scraped their chairs out to leave the room. It took a while for the Gryffindors to find their way down to the dungeons and they were all extremely disappointed when they remembered that they'd be sharing the lesson with the Slytherins. All of them but one stood in a large group, laughing and joking with each other. The single girl who stood alone as far away as the group as possible smiled nervously at them as they drew nearer.

"Why don't you stand with the rest of the Slytherins?" Molly asked the girl kindly.

"They don't like me. They all bully me because I'm Muggle born and they don't think I'm a proper witch," the girl replied sadly.

"Of course, you're a proper witch! I'm sure you're better than all of them put together. Being Muggle born is no reason not to like someone."

The girl smiled widely at Molly but the grin melted from her face as one of the Slytherins called out, "Oh, look! Weaver's found herself a friend! You might not want to stand that close, you'll get infected."

"It's a shame your friends stood too close to you and all got infected with idiocy," Molly snapped back, and then indicated to the girl. "She's got a big enough brain to tell her to stand back away from stupid idiots who think they're smart but actually have all the intelligence of a -"

"Her brain is full of filthy Muggle's blood!"

"At least she has one!"

"Tell me, are you Muggle born too, or just really stupid?"

"Tell me, are you smart enough to hold a wand the right way around, or did you accidently shoot yourself with a curse of pure idiocy?"

Their argument was interrupted when the dungeon door flew open and a large, elderly man appeared beaming from ear to ear.

"In you come everyone, find a seat, anywhere you like, there's plenty of space."

Molly invited the Slytherin girl to sit with her, Rosie and Matt at a table on the other side of the room to the other Slytherins who were all still sniggering.

"I'm Kitty," said the Slytherin, "Kitty Weaver."

"Molly Weasley," Molly replied, smiling.

"You're a Weasley?" Kitty Weaver said, clearly impressed. "I've heard so much about your family around the common room. Personally, I think your family sound brilliant, but the rest of the Slytherins seem to hate you. Apparently, one of you died in the war but it turns out they actually didn't! Is that true?"

"Yes. Yes, that's true."

"Wow."

"How closely related to him are you? Do you know him personally?" Kitty asked, her eyes wide; did she ever shut up?

Molly looked at Matt and Rosie, both of who also seemed curious.

"Yes, he's erm, my-" To Molly's great relief, Professor Slughorn had bumbled to the front of the room to begin the lesson. Molly flashed Rosie and Matt a look that told them she'd talk to them later.

"Today, we'll just be preparing a simple potion which only requires a few ingredients and shouldn't be too difficult for you," he turned to his desk and picked up a small vial of light blue liquid. "This is a simple antidote for minor cuts and bruises. It should be quite thick and gloopy, so it is spreadable on skin. The ingredients and recipe are on the blackboard, you may begin."

Thankfully, in the chaos that took over after Professor Slughorn's explanation, no one had the time to continue talking to Molly about her family so she didn't have to tell them anything more about her dad. While she really didn't want her publicity in the school raised, Molly felt that Matt and Rosie deserved to know who her dad was, and she promised herself that at dinner, she'd tell them.

At the end of the lesson, the boy who'd argued with Molly earlier, Jake Simon, had spilled his potion all over the floor, and Professor Slughorn had to repair both Jake's cauldron and the stone floor which now had several steaming holes in it.

Laughing hysterically, Molly, Rosie and Matt said goodbye to Kitty, who was also beaming, and headed towards the common room to drop off their bags before dinner.

As they reached the Main Entrance, Molly's eyes fell on the memorial of the war that stood proudly in the middle of the hall. She walked towards it and read all the names until her eyes caught on her father's. _Fred Weasley._ Clearly, no one had removed the name yet and Molly was quite glad of it. Her eyes then stopped on two more names- _Nymphadora Tonks_ and _Remus Lupin_ \- Teddy's parents. This war had affected so many families and all of hers had escaped just because of a choice her father had made. It suddenly dawned on Molly how lucky she was to have her father. If he hadn't made that Vow with Lucius Malfoy, she might not have been born, and her father, her grandfather and at least three of her uncles, possibly more, would all be dead.

"You were going to tell us in Potions how you're related to him," Rosie said, pointing at Fred Weasley's name.

"He's my dad," Molly said quietly, following her friend's finger with her eyes.

Neither Matt nor Rosie said anything and even though she was staring at the names on the statue, Molly knew they were both staring at her.

After a minute or so, Matt said, "So you know how he survived?" Molly nodded. "Wow."

"Don't tell anyone," Molly pleaded. "Please."

"Of course not," Rosie replied, "But why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I would have said it on the train, but I wasn't sure if you'd be in my house, and I couldn't be sure you'd keep the secret. After that, there wasn't any time." And then, another thought smacked Molly in the face. Jamie.

Jamie knew who her parents were, and he could tell anyone at any time. Trying desperately to ignore the thought, Molly followed her friends into the Great Hall for dinner.

No sooner than they had sat down, Angelina hurried up to Molly, looking extremely worried.

"I've just been talking to your grandmother," She said.

"What? What's happened?"

"Some healers from St Mungo's went over this afternoon for your Uncle George."

"Is he alright?"

"Currently, yes."

"So, what's the problem?"

"The healers think that- if no one finds a cure- neither your dad nor your uncle are going to be alive in a couple of months."

Molly stared at her aunt, shocked, "No. You're joking!"

"Both of them have gone back to the island to see if they can find a cure," Angelina said gravely.

"What?" Molly cried, "They can't they could get killed! Both times he's been, dad barely escaped. What if this time-"

"Don't say it," Angelina interrupted. "Your grandmother said she'd contact me again as soon as they know more. Apparently, the two of them have to go back to St Mungo's tomorrow. Neither of them are happy about it, which is why they went off to the island."

"And grandma didn't stop them?"

"That's the thing, she asked them to go," she said as Teddy came down from the staff table.

"What's wrong?" he asked, "Is everyone ok?"

Angelina quickly explained what had happened and Teddy's face fell, "Have you told James, Albus and Rose?"

"No, not yet. I thought Molly would want to know first."

"Do you want me to do it?" Teddy offered, and without waiting for an answer, he got up and headed off to inform the others, wiping his brow as he went.

"Why did grandma want them to go?"

"I think she'd rather have your dad at home than in a hospital," Angelina said before turning away and leaving hurriedly.

Molly sighed and placed her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. She was grateful that neither Matt nor Rosie said anything, even though she guessed they were silently trying to figure out what was going on.

No one said anything all the way through dinner and Molly didn't have much of an appetite anymore. When Matt and Rosie had finished, Molly stood up and ran from the hall. She didn't stop until she reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She practically shouted 'lingua leonis' and dashed through the portrait hole. As everyone else was still at dinner, the common room was deserted, so Molly collapsed into an armchair next to the fire and waited while Rosie and Matt clambered through after her. As they sank into chairs opposite her, Molly began to explain as much as she knew about the Vow and the island.

"I can't let anyone know who I am because the Daily Prophet could get hold of the story, and then suddenly the entire world would hate my dad."

"But your aunt is the Minister of Magic! Surely she can stop any false stories getting out."

"Every story they share will be completely true though, that's the problem. And she won't stop them, she can't. The Minister for Magic's first priority has to be the magical community, not family issues."

"But what difference to witches and wizards will it make if she doesn't let them post the story?" Matt asked.

"People deserve the truth. The best she'll be able to do is make sure that the fact Uncle Harry has forgiven dad is posted so he doesn't suddenly have all the wizarding world against him."

"I can't believe this," Rosie said.

"What?"

"The amount of danger you and your family are in. Any one of you could, well, die at any moment."

"I doubt we'd just drop dead," Molly reasoned, "We'd have to be attacked by something or other."

"Even so, it could literally be anything."

"Look, if it were that serious, I wouldn't have been allowed to come to Hogwarts," Molly said reassuringly. "I'll be fine."

"I still don't get why you didn't tell us."

"And risk someone overhearing? I barely knew you, so I couldn't trust either of you. I wasn't going to risk it."

"You have one hardcore dad though," Matt said.

"Hardly," Rosie argued. "No offence, but it sounds to me like he only made the Vow to keep himself alive."

"Even so, he saved all his family's lives!"

"And has now put them at risk again!"

"Can you please stop talking about my dad as if he's some stupid celebrity?" Molly said quietly.

"He is a bit of a celebrity to be fair."

"But he's not stupid," Molly said. "I think I'll go to bed early. I don't want to have to face everyone after I ran out the Great Hall."

"I'll come too," Rosie said.

"There's no point me staying down here by myself," Matt said and got up to head towards the boy's dormitories.

Rosie and Molly both got up and walked towards their room. The door squeaked open and Molly went straight over to her bed and lay on her stomach, head buried in her pillow.

"They'll be fine, Mol. Honestly, they will," Rosie said encouragingly. "Your dad's avoided death before, he can do it again."

Molly said nothing and didn't move until she'd heard Rosie change into her pyjamas and slip into bed. Then, Molly got up, changed into her own pyjamas and crawled under the covers. She didn't move when the other girls came up and listened only vaguely to their conversation.

When the dormitory was silent at last, Molly rolled onto her side and stared out the window. She was half hoping that Pepper would swoop into view, but the other half of her knew that she wouldn't. The rain, which Molly had learned to ignore, split lines in the twinkling stars, slashing through the tiny bit of light that Molly had left.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

When Fred reappeared outside Grimmauld place, he found that he was supporting not only the weight of Fawkes, but also George. His brother was struggling to stay on his feet so Fred had to practically drag him into the house. Cradling a phoenix in one arm and his other arm wrapped around George's shoulder, it was with great difficulty that Fred managed to open the front door and stumble through the hall to the kitchen. Hearing the clatter from the hallway, Mrs. Weasley had rushed out to see them. She took one look at George, gasped, and ran over to Fred. But she didn't help support George, who was now barely conscious. Instead, she took the bird from Fred and bustled back into the kitchen, before asking Harry to go and help. Grabbing George's other arm, Harry wrapped it around his own shoulder and the three of them stumbled into the kitchen. With help from Harry, Fred lowered George onto a chair carefully before collapsing into one himself.

"What happened?" Harry said, ducking out from under George's arm.

"What on Earth did he do that could have caused this?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, handing Fred a cup of tea.

"A lot," Fred admitted, "He transformed into and then back from being a fox-"

"What?" Mrs. Weasley demanded. "He did what?"

"You didn't know he's an animagus?"

"No!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked looking around the room, "Did any of you?"

Sheepishly, Hermione raised her hand, as did Harry and Lee. Mrs. Weasley looked like she was going to explode and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could say anything, Fred cut in, "That doesn't matter right now."

"Tell me what you two have been up to, now!"

So, Fred told everyone what had happened on the island and when he'd finished, there was no tea left in his mug and Mrs. Weasley looked almost as faint as George.

"I don't know how Fawkes can help, but he can somehow, and phoenix tears have healing powers. It's a wonder we never thought of it- I bet Fawkes' tears can heal George's cut in a heartbeat."

"I doubt Fawkes' tears could heal anything at the moment," Hermione pointed out, indicating at the bird who was lying on the table, wings spread in awkward angles and feathers bent in every direction.

"We can heal him, can't we?" Lee said from the other side of the table.

"The bird or the ginger?"

"Both."

"Of course, we can," Fred said as confidently as he could, although he doubted it sounded too convincing.

"How do we go about healing a phoenix?" Lee asked.

"Hagrid knows about healing creatures," Mrs. Weasley said, moving towards the fire and scooping out a pinch of dusty Floo powder from a small pot, "I'll talk to him now."

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Hagrid's beaming face appeared in the flame and Mrs. Weasley wasted no time asking him about Fawkes.

Looking slightly alarmed at the sudden sharpness of Mrs. Weasley's question, Hagrid said, "I dunno how to heal 'im fully. Ah'd have to see 'im firs'. Wha's it for?"

"Fawkes can help heal the twins, Hagrid, and he can help break the Vow, but we need him to be healthy."

"Well, I'll see if I can come over at the weekend, Molly," Hagrid said, still slightly baffled, "I'm afraid I can' do anything from 'ere."

"What do you recommend we do for now?"

"Strap 'im up, best you can. Make sure he's fed well."

"Thank you, Hagrid. We'll see you at the weekend."

"Listen, how are the twins? Are they both alrigh'? Angelina tol' me what they did, it's absolutely shockin' an' all."

Mrs. Weasley coughed awkwardly, "Would you do me a favour and tell Angelina that both boys got back. Once we've healed Fawkes, we can hopefully stop their cuts bleeding and heal them too."

"But are they alrigh'?" Hagrid pressed.

"Well, Fred is."

"And George?"

"Not so much. That's why we need Fawkes to be better as quickly as possible."

"He's sick?" Hagrid roared. "An' you lot let him go out to tha' island?"

"He wasn't ill when he left, Hagrid, but I'm sure he'll be fine soon."

"He better be," Hagrid grumbled, "I'll go and tell Angelina." And Hagrid's face vanished.

"Well, that was successful," Fred said sarcastically.

"At least we have a way of keeping Fawkes alive until the weekend. I'll find some bandages. Can someone help me with Fawkes?"

While Fred, Harry and Lee helped George upstairs, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley tried to patch up Fawkes as best they could. The boys all sat in the twins' room, chatting and laughing in attempt to keep the mood light.

An hour later, Fred and Lee were working tirelessly on the Body Switching Bonbons while Harry chatted to George.

"I think we've got it!" Fred cried after a while.

"Shall we try it?" Lee asked, beaming at Fred and holding up a small sweet.

Fred, who was also holding a matching sweet nodded and looked at Lee, "On three?"

"On three," Lee agreed.

Harry and George both chanted, "Three, two, one," and Fred and Lee popped the bonbons in their mouth.

"Tastes like chocolate!" Lee said through chews, but his voice didn't sound like his anymore. Lee Jordan suddenly had the voice of Fred Weasley.

"It worked!" Fred said happily with the voice of Lee. "Wait, I said that!" Lee pointed at Fred. "How come my voice is coming out of your mouth? And why is your arm moving when I want mine to?"

"Lee, your face is priceless!" Harry laughed.

"Thanks, mate," Lee said sarcastically with Fred's voice.

"This is so weird!" Fred said in the voice of Lee.

"How long does it last?" George asked.

"I'm not sure, that's why we need to try them out. With any hope, they'll only last an hour because the recipe is based on Polyjuice Potion, which only lasts an hour," Fred said, from the other side of the room and a completely different body.

"This is brilliant!" Harry laughed.

"They'd better only last the hour," Fred's mouth said while his eyes looked down, apparently shocked he'd just spoken. "I can't be stuck like this forever, imagine trying to have a normal conversation with someone!"

"These will sell so well!" Lee said with Fred's voice, "They're a great idea!"

"Let's go downstairs and show everyone!" Harry said, jumping to his feet.

"Not without George," Fred tried to say with his own mouth, and then laughed when his voice came from opposite him.

"I'll be fine. I can get downstairs," George said, even though his face was still deathly pale.

Lee, Harry and Fred shared an uncertain look and then silently agreed to go over to the bed and help George up. George placed his arms around Fred's left shoulder and Harry's right and the boys heaved George to his feet. Lee ran across the room to open the door as George's face turned even paler than it had been previously, which had seemed impossible at the time.

"You alright?" Fred's body asked with Lee's voice.

"Never better," George grunted.

The four of them struggled down the stairs, Harry and Fred supporting George while Lee scurried in front to open doors and clear the stairs of clutter. This proved to be very difficult when Fred and Lee had control of each other's bodies instead if their own. When they finally reached the kitchen, the first thing that Fred saw was Fawkes sitting proudly on Mrs. Weasley's arm while Hermione carefully wrapped his wing in a bandage. The phoenix looked a lot happier as he nibbled a bit of mushy food from Mrs. Weasley's hand.

The four boys shared a cheeky look and George said, "Lee, I don't suppose you could grab a glass of water for me, mate?"

"Certainly," Lee's voice projected from Fred's body which moved across the room to open one of the cupboards.

Harry and Fred lowered George down as Mrs Weasley looked curiously at them.

"What are you lot up to? I thought you were upstairs."

"We were. But we came down," Harry said. "Where's Ginny?"

"Out. She had to go to a Quidditch match to write an article for the Daily Prophet," Mrs. Weasley replied without taking her eyes off the boys, "She should be back soon, though."

Fred looked at his twin and said with Lee's voice, "Can I sit next to you?"

"Be my guest."

Lee walked across the room and took a seat next to his friend while Fred said, "Thank you very much."

"Not at all."

"What is going on?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, glaring at the twins.

"Body Switching Bonbons!" George announced proudly, "Fred and I have been working on them for ages and we finally cracked it. Lee and Fred both took one each and now Fred controls Lee's body. For example:"

Lee began to dance around the room stupidly looking completely bewildered. Then, Fred stood up and started punching himself, looking equally astonished.

"Lee's brain is still in Lee's body and Fred's in Fred's, but they're controlling each other, so their voices come out the other body, if that makes sense," George explained.

"What are they for?" Hermione asked.

"They're going to be in the new set of products for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We decided to work on some new ideas to put out for Christmas. So far, we have Sneezing Quills, Fire Fungi, Bad Hair Spray and these. We're also working on Vruit and Fegetables, Unknitting Needles, Insulting Parchment and we've almost perfected Personal Mood Clouds." Fred's voice said proudly.

"Almost perfected?"

"Well, we haven't figured out how to get rid of them," Fred replied sheepishly, "and they also tend to stay above any random object rather than the person who opens the box."

"So currently our bed has a cloud living above it," George concluded.

"Is the cloud raining?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No, but it might if we get upset."

"Surely it would only rain if the bed got upset," Fred's voice said.

"Beds don't have feelings, stupid," George pointed out. "Besides, it doesn't work like that, the bed didn't open the box."

The four boys plus, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione, spent the rest of the evening discussing ideas for new joke shop products, and they were all very glad when Fred and Lee's sweets wore off and they regained control of their own bodies.

Mrs. Weasley got up to help Kreacher prepare dinner and said, "Your shop is going to be so popular once you start selling your new products."

"I hope so," said George, "We still need more ideas though."

"Are you going to let Ron go back to being an Auror?"

"Ron was an Auror?" Fred said, shocked.

"Yes, but he resigned to help your brother with the joke shop."

"If he wants to, then of course he can go back to his old job. He was annoying anyway- not a proper businessman, and he has no original ideas."

"Don't you say that!" Mrs. Weasley scolded as she stirred a pot of gravy. "There's no way you could have kept that shop open without his help."

"That doesn't mean he had any ideas for decent products."

"Neither did you!"

"I didn't say I did! Look, Ron was helpful, but we don't necessarily need him anymore, that's all. If he'd rather go back to the Ministry, then he can, if he doesn't then he can stay."

"He should be back soon, anyway. You can talk to him then," Hermione said, stroking Fawkes' feathers.

"I'll call everyone else down," Harry said, getting up and walking towards the door.

A minute or so later, footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Lily, Roxanne and Hugo appeared in the doorway.

"We just need to wait for everyone else to get back from work," said Mrs. Weasley as everyone took seats around the table.

As if they were waiting for their cue, the front door burst open and in trooped Ron, Mr. Weasley and Fred jnr., all of whom looked very tired and very irritated.

"Bad day?"

"Awful," Ron grumbled as he collapsed into the chair next to Hermione. "It's been impossible to sell anything because the stupid Daily Prophet reporters didn't leave all day."

"They were first to come in when we opened and last to leave when we closed," Mr. Weasley said, slurping from a mug of tea and scratching his balding head. "Honestly, they filled up the entire shop, no room for customers."

"We only sold about three things," Ron said grumpily.

"Seriously?" George shouted angrily.

Ron nodded and George swore very loudly causing Mrs. Weasley to glare at him pointedly.

At the end of their meal, the twins got up and left, without a word to anyone else. When they were half way up the stairs, they heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps following them. The two of them sat on the bed in their room, staring at the onion which still lay on the rug. The door squeaked open and Lee joined them.

"I have to tell them, don't I?" Fred said quietly, "The reporters. It's the only way to get them out the shop. I don't care if the whole world hates me for it, it's the right thing to do."

"There has to be another way," George said although he too sounded defeated.

"You know there isn't, George."

Fred flopped back onto the bed. He wondered how Molly was getting on at school, and how her first day of lessons had gone. He missed her more than he could say. He missed her bright, smiling face and her positive attitude. He vaguely felt George and Lee lie down on either side of him and didn't really care that the three of them were lying the wrong way across the bed until a pillow collided with his face.

He turned to his right to see Lee grinning, brandishing a pillow in his hand. He opened his mouth to complain, but found it full of fabric as Lee whacked him across the head with his cushion. Fred jumped to his feet and grabbed another pillow from the head of the bed as George sat up, looking extremely confused.

Within minutes, feathers were fleeing from their cases in a dash for freedom. The twins and Lee battered each other with the pillows until they were out of breath and completely covered in down. Laughing uncontrollably, the three of them repaired the cushions and Lee left to go next door. Fred grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and curled up on the armchair while George crawled under the duvet.

"Whatever the Daily Prophet report, we'll always be on your side," said George sincerely.

Fred didn't respond. He'd curled up on the hard chair, pulled the blanket around his shoulders, and closed his eyes.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The next few days for Molly were perfect. She didn't let anything ruin her mood, not even Jamie who was still persistently ignoring her. Her lessons were brilliant, and by Friday, she, Matt and Rosie were great friends with Kitty Weaver, the chatty Slytherin who was bullied for her lack of magical blood. Her first flying lesson on Thursday afternoon had gone brilliantly; she was easily the best flyer in the class, despite that she'd only ridden a broom once. She earned ten points for Gryffindor from Angelina and went to dinner, beaming with pride.

Molly, Matt and Rosie now knew the way to their lessons relatively well, although they didn't always remember to jump the trick step on one of the staircases. The ghosts who floated around the castle were always happy to help any lost first-years by pointing them cheerfully in the right direction, except, of course, the Bloody Baron, who was often spotted lurking in a dark corner and glaring at the students. In his reply to her letter, Fred had explained that Molly should probably tell Peeves the poltergeist whose daughter she was, as it might stop him pulling pranks on her and her friends as they wound through the corridors. Molly had done just that on the way back from dinner on Saturday evening, when she was quite sure no one but her, Matt and Rosie was around. Peeves had swooped down on them as they headed towards the Fat Lady's portrait, and had been extremely close to dropping a stink bomb on their heads, when Molly had started a particularly loud conversation with Rosie.

"You can't tell anyone, though, the publicity would be awful!" she had practically shouted.

Peeves froze, his stink bomb stuck in his hand. He hovered a little closer to them, listening intently.

"Of course, I won't tell anyone. It would be horrible for you, and it would be all over the Daily Prophet. The shop's sales would drop massively."

"What are the ickle firsties talking about?" Peeves said cheekily. "We're not plotting naughty plans, are we? That could get you a detention!"

"Oh, no, Peeves. We really shouldn't tell you!" Molly said, with a patronising tone.

"I'll just call Professor McGonagall and tell her that the ickle firsties are being naughty then, shall I?"

The three of them shared a fake look of horror. "All right, but you can't tell anyone, do you promise?"

"Of course," Peeves replied automatically, in a tone that said he didn't promise anything at all.

"Fine. Do you remember the two Weasley twins that were at this school just over twenty years ago?" she whispered.

"Ooh, yes. Those two were almost as good as me at pulling pranks," said Peeves eagerly.

"Well, do you remember how one of them died in the war?"

Peeves nodded, "That was a very sad day. Of course, Peevsie has heard rumours that they _both_ survived! Those two were the only two students I've ever admired," Peeves said, full of respect.

"If one of their daughters came to the school, would you admire them too?"

"I expect so, why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because," she leaned in closer to Peeves so that only he could hear her, "I'm Fred Weasley's daughter."

Peeves gasped, "You're not!"

"I am."

"Prove it," Peeves challenged and Molly pulled out the letter which her dad had written her from her robe pocket.

The poltergeist read the note, a look of pure amazement on his translucent face. When he'd finished, he bowed deeply to Molly and said in a posh voice, "I knew he wasn't really dead! You have my utmost respect, and if there are any pranks I can help you with, just give me a call. Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you, Peeves," Molly said, satisfied, and as they walked away from the thunder-struck poltergeist, she muttered, "I just hope he keeps his promise."

Matt agreed, "We should have threatened him."

"I don't think there's any need- he seemed happy."

"As long as he stays happy."

The three of them clambered through the portrait hole and into and joined the other Gryffindors in the common room. They sunk into seats by the fire with Tara, Steph, Amy and four of Matt's friends. Those ten Gryffindor first years stuck together all the time at Hogwarts- sitting together at lunch, walking from lesson to lesson with each other and spending free periods together.

The only lesson which hadn't been enjoyable for students in their first week was Herbology, as they had been forced to run across the grounds in the pouring rain, and stand shaking and soaking in a greenhouse for an hour, while the droplets pattered down on the glass above them. They'd returned to the common room, shivering, and complaining, drenched to the bone and then huddled around the fire to warm up on Friday afternoon before dinner.

On Saturday morning, Molly suggested they go down to visit Hagrid. So, after breakfast, the three of them wrapped up in their cloaks and ran through the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin. Smoke was billowing from his chimney, a warm volcano on a freezing winter day. They knocked on his wooden door and waited, bunched close together for warmth. Only a few seconds later, the door swung open and Hagrid beamed down at Molly. Matt and Rosie, who hadn't yet met Hagrid properly, looked slightly uncomfortable as they were welcomed into his hut. A large, black boar-hound sat on a huge armchair in the corner and it growled as Molly came in with her friends.

"Now, now, Fang. These are friends," Hagrid said, patting the dog.

"This is Rosie, and this is Matt," Molly introduced, indicating at her friends.

"Take a seat, I'll make some tea," said Hagrid, "Yeh've only jes' caught me. I was about to leave."

"Where're you going?"

"Off to see your dad and-" he stopped and slapped a hand to his mouth, looking shocked and guilty.

"It's fine, Hagrid," Molly said, interpreting his sudden silence, "I've told them."

Hagrid sighed with relief as he continued, "I was jes' about to go an' make sure that everyone's alrigh'. Need to check on a phoenix they've got too, actually."

"A phoenix?" Matt repeated blankly.

"They've got a sick phoenix that used to belong to Dumbledore, the ol' 'eadmaster of 'ogwarts."

"Why do they have a phoenix?" Molly asked.

"Well, phoenix's tears 'ave 'ealin' powers, see, an' they think Fawkes can 'elp fix your dad up."

He handed out mugs of tea in the biggest cups Molly had ever seen, and sunk into a chair next to them. Molly's chair was so big that her feet couldn't touch the floor. Various cages hung from the dust encased ceiling and the entire cabin was cluttered and messy. It had a surprisingly cosy and homely feeling, despite the chaos. One large bed was stuffed in corner of the room and a patchwork quilt was draped over it. A fire blazed in the far corner, billowing smoke which was engulfed by the chimney and pulled out of sight.

"How's your firs' week bin?" Hagrid asked them kindly.

"Great, it's so amazing here!" Molly said enthusiastically.

"I thought yeh'd like it."

"It's magical," Rosie said.

"Literally," agreed Matt.

The three of them spent the rest of the morning with Hagrid, but at about 11:00, he insisted that he had to go.

"I've got to get Professor McGonagall. Tol' 'er I'd come an' get 'er when I was leavin'," he explained as he accompanied them through the grounds and up to the castle.

He soon split off from them and headed towards McGonagall's office while Molly, Rosie and Matt all made their way towards the common room. They were the only people out on the corridors. Footsteps echoed through the halls, and several times they had to stop and turn back as they'd taken a wrong turn. At one point, they found themselves standing in a dusty classroom which was still laid out as though a class was being taught. Books, quills and dried ink were placed on the desk, positioned as though a lesson had been abandoned only half completed. The few words that had been written on the parchment were shrivelled and unreadable, and the pages rolled up at the corners. They decided not to stay for too long.

Finally, the three of them were heading in the right direction of the common room, treading the path past portraits and suits of rusted armour. They clambered through the Fat Lady's portrait hole and sunk into armchairs next to the crackling fire. Professor Slughorn had set them the homework of writing a two-foot essay on the seven differences between a cleverness potion and a youth potion.

They spent the rest of the evening staring out of the window in the common room, eager to see Hagrid the second he returned.

But nobody returned to the cabin that night, even once Molly and her friends had surrendered and gone up to bed, abandoning their essays.

The next morning, no smoke was billowing from the chimney, and the hut looked abandoned, so unloved by its owner that in the miserable weather, it wouldn't have looked out of place in a ghost train ride in a theme park. Neither Hagrid, nor Professor McGonagall was at breakfast, and when Molly asked Angelina if she'd heard from them, Angelina only told her she didn't even know that they'd gone anywhere.

Molly sighed and threw herself into the seat next to Matt. She placed a few sausages on her plate but only stared at them. The perfect mood that she'd tried so hard to keep had been ruined. Maybe she'd accidently sent her excitement in a letter with Pepper; in a letter that was being taken far, far away, flown to the edge of the world. But her gorgeous owl had been happily snuggled in the owlery since she'd arrived with Fred's letter, which she'd kindly dropped into Molly's orange juice on Wednesday morning.

Longing desperately to hear something from home, Molly left Rosie and Matt to make her way up to the owlery. The tall, circular room was crammed with owls of all different sizes, and the moment Molly entered, Pepper swooped down from somewhere high above and landed obediently on the window ledge in amongst all the bird droppings.

"Just a minute, Pepper," Molly muttered as she removed two pieces of parchment and a quill from her pocket and began to write:

 _To Mum,_

 _I love Hogwarts. It's such a beautiful castle, I wish you could see it. Lessons are so interesting, there's no maths or science or anything like that. It's a shame about the weather though, it makes the grounds look like a swamp and you can't even see a quarter of a mile across the mountains. I don't know if dad told you, but I've been sorted into Gryffindor house. I have two really good friends, Matt and Rosie, and it's way better here than it would have been at that other high school._

 _I miss you loads, lots of love, Molly._

Placing aside her finished letter, Molly slid her second piece of parchment in front of her.

 _To Dad,_

 _I really hope you and Uncle George are ok._

 _My first week has been so brilliant, but I still miss you and Mum loads. I've made friends with Peeves (I hope) by telling him about you, but, apart from him, only my friends Rosie and Matt know. I really like the lessons, they're so fun and exciting, except maybe History of Magic._

 _Love, from Molly._

She folded up the letters and attached both to Pepper, who rubbed her head against Molly's hand before swooping out the window.

Wrapping her hands in her cloak to protect them from the nipping cold, Molly clambered down the stairs and began heading back to the common room. It was only when she realised that she was the only one alone in the sea of people in the corridors, that she remembered Professor McGonagall's warning that she gave at the start of the term- "Everybody will do very well to remember that they should not go wandering about the corridors alone, especially at night".

'Technically,' Molly thought, 'I'm not wandering. I know exactly where I'm going and it definitely isn't night.' But the words still rang in her head. Why had she felt the need to tell the entire school this? Molly was sure that Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the world!

She found Rosie and Matt in the common room, still working on their potions essay. Matt, whose untidy scribbled handwriting had so far only covered about half a foot, seemed completely stuck. As Molly took a seat next to him and removed her quill and ink, Matt looked up at her helplessly, "I can't remember them! All I've got is that a youth potion is crimson coloured while a cleverness potion is more scarlet and that one's gloopier and thicker than the other."

Molly shrugged and unrolled her parchment. She quickly scanned through her own work, which was only missing one difference and said to Matt, "Youth potions bubble when heated but cleverness potions steam."

Gratefully, Matt scrawled this onto his sheet before peering over at Rosie's work. "How did you make five reasons fill the whole two feet?" he demanded, "You've done extra!"

"You can't just write the differences," Rosie said, "You have to explain them too, go into some detail, otherwise it's just a list."

When the three of them had taken seats in the Great Hall for lunch, the first thing that Molly noticed was that Professor McGonagall was once again sitting at the staff table, although she looked rather pale and her face was creased with concern. Naturally, this did not reassure Molly in the slightest.

"I've just been talking to Professor McGonagall," said Angelina, as she hurried over to Molly from the staff table. "Everyone's ok, don't worry."

"Why does she look so anxious then?"

"Because your dad has decided that he's going to tell the Daily Prophet where he's been for the last twenty years."

"You're joking!"

"I'm afraid not. He's been going into work every day expecting to see a reporter. Thank goodness there haven't been any yet, but it's only a matter of time before he runs into someone."

"Fantastic," Molly said in exasperation, "Really fantastic."

"On the plus side, once they've healed Fawkes, hopefully they'll be able to heal the twin's wounds and apparently, there's a way to break that stupid Vow too."

"Well, that's something," Molly grumbled.

"The people on that weird island can't be too happy though. The storm's got a lot more violent since they stole the phoenix. Professor McGonagall is worried that they're going to start attacking, and then it'll be really hard to keep anyone safe. You have to be careful, Molly," Angelina said as she got up to leave. "Stay with these two at all times."

So, from that day on, Molly made absolutely sure to stay with Rosie and Matt. Although she didn't usually go anywhere without her friends, it eventually reached the point where Rosie wouldn't even let Molly be in the dormitory by herself.

As the weeks rolled on, no articles explaining where Fred had appeared in the Daily Prophet, but not everything was quite so perfect.

In the first Quidditch match of the year- Gryffindor against Ravenclaw- one of the bludgers smacked James straight in the head and he spent a week stuck in the hospital wing with concussion.

Only a few days later, Rose had been pushed down one of the particularly long staircases by a group of boys behind her and had landed in the entrance hall, limbs twisted at very odd angles.

None of the incidents had yet been fatal, but Molly knew it was only a matter of time before something went badly wrong. The teachers, who had all clearly been warned about these dangers, were taking extra care to keep Molly safe. Teddy's Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons had become a lot less interesting, and Professor Slughorn only gave them the simplest of potions to brew. One of the only lessons which hadn't really changed was their weekly flying class. Angelina still allowed Molly to fly, but always made sure that there was someone hovering below her in case she fell. The plants in Herbology weren't dangerous or poisonous at all- repotting begonias would have been more exciting- and charms lessons mainly consisted of Professor Flitwick talking at them. Due to their lack of practical or interesting lessons, teachers had been piling more and more homework on them. Most people thought that this was purely unfair, but Molly was pretty sure that it was so she wouldn't have the time to wander about the corridors at weekends or between lessons.

Halloween, however, was by far the best day at Hogwarts that Molly had experienced.

Hagrid had decorated the hall with the biggest pumpkins anyone had ever seen and they'd all been carved with amazingly beautiful patterns and designs each slightly different to the pumpkin next to it. Live pixies had been placed in each so they all glowed a unique colour. The ghosts had prepared a parade, which was ruined, to the student's great amusement, by Peeves, who swooped into the hall, marched in front of the other ghosts, sang rude songs and pulled stupid faces. As he was chased out by the caretaker, Peeves winked at Molly before loop-de-looping out of sight. The ceiling of the hall showed a dark night sky with bright, twinkling stars and a large shining moon.

Sluggishly, everyone filed up the stairs to their common rooms, dragging their feet and yawning with exhaustion. Not one Gryffindor stayed in the common room for more than half an hour after the feast- they were all drained of any energy. Molly and Rosie bade goodnight to Matt and climbed the stairs to their dormitory. There seemed to be ten times as many steps as usual on the way up to their room; their weariness had drained them of their sanity. Molly's bed was like heaven. She'd never appreciated just how amazing it actually looked, with its plump pillows and beautifully soft duvets. She folded herself into the blanket's cosy arms, and instantly fell asleep.


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Fred's weeks seemed to roll in about the speed of a snail stuck in slow-motion. Hagrid hadn't been much help- he'd spent most of his weekend shouting at the twins because they'd been 'irresponsible enough to visit that bloomin' island again' and hadn't actually got around to helping them with Fawkes at all. He'd left on Sunday morning and no one had any idea what to do about healing the poor phoenix.

A few weeks later, Fawkes could fly a short distance but hadn't produced one tear to help heal even a paper-cut. No matter how hard anyone tried, they couldn't get the phoenix to cry. Fred and George, meanwhile, had gone into work every single day, expecting to see a Daily Prophet reporter. However, to Fred's annoyance but George's appreciation, not one had turned up.

The amount of letters they'd had from Hogwarts was also worrying. Harry and Ginny had received one only a few weeks into the term saying that James had been hit in the head with a bludger and fallen from his broom in a Quidditch match. A couple of days later, Ron and Hermione had got one saying that Rose had been pushed down a staircase and had broken one of her legs and her ribs.

Unless it was to go to work, no one left the house at all. Most departments in the Ministry had reopened so everyone left together and came home together. Life worked like clockwork. Hermione, Harry, Mr. Weasley and Ginny left together early in the morning, then a little while later, Fred and George went to the joke shop. The shop opened, the shop closed. Fred and George returned home. Harry, Hermione, Mr. Weasley and Ginny returned home. They ate, they slept, they woke up. It all became quite boring. Day after day, week after week, month after month, the same thing happened. Even conversations ended up repeating each other after a while. No one could wait for the Christmas holidays to come. Joy would overcome the fear that lived inside them. The holidays, however, had never seemed so far away.

As the amount of daylight shortened and a miserable Autumn transformed into an even worse Winter, Fawkes, although seemingly well and able, was still refusing to help and there had been no reports at all in the Daily Prophet about any of the Weasley's except a Christmas advert to publicise new joke shop products. The twins had huge stocks of Sneezing Quills, boxes of Body Switching Bonbons, Vruit and Fegetables, Fire Fungi, Bad Hair Spray, Unknitting Needles, Personal Mood Clouds and Insulting Parchment stored in the basement of their shop, ready to be released. They had also combined Insulting Parchment and Sneezing Quills to create a small duo that could be sold as a miniature gift selection. The new products were due to be released for sale on the day after Hogwarts students returned for the holidays.

Fred and George had also been avoiding any visits to St Mungo's. A few times a week, healers could be seen outside the house but evidently couldn't see the door to knock. Both twins had been ignoring the sharp pain in their wounds that attacked them all day by distracting themselves with work. So far, they'd been doing a pretty good job, but the concerned looks of their family that followed them were living proof that neither of them looked amazingly healthy.

The Monday before the term ended, another owl was sent to Grimmauld Place from Hogwarts. A smart eagle owl flew into the kitchen one evening and sat in the middle of the table, its leg stuck out towards Ginny. Everyone shared a worried look, it had come to the point where every owl that arrived at the house was a messenger of worry and fear. Ginny took the letter with shaking hands. She slipped open the envelope, breaking the red Hogwarts seal and removed the parchment. Fred could see her hands shaking and her face blanching as she read the letter and his heart sunk a few inches in his chest. Harry got up and walked around the table to read the letter over Ginny's shoulder. He too looked up with a deathly white face.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Weasley said, gently easing the letter from her daughter's quivering hands. "Oh dear."

"What's happened?" Ron asked.

"James was attacked by one of Professor Sprout's more … dangerous plants in Herbology," Harry said quietly.

"Which one? Is he alright?"

"A Venomous Tentacula was behind where he was working and when he stepped back away from a Leaping Toadstool that was flying straight towards his face, the Tentacula bit him."

"Bit him where?"

"Around the neck."

"Is… is he-?" Lily sniffled through tears.

"He's fine. Madam Pomfrey's done everything she can and they're moving him to St Mungo's where they have better-trained staff."

"Will he recover?" Ron asked as Harry stepped around the table to comfort Lily.

"They don't think it'll kill him- they got there just in time to stop the venom spreading too far, but apparently it was really close. Almost too close," said Harry, lifting Lily onto his lap and hugging her to his chest. "It took the combined efforts of Madam Pomfrey, Professor Slughorn and Professor Sprout to work out how to do anything in the first place. McGonagall's coming straight here as soon as possible but she has to make sure James is safely at St Mungo's, then get to Hogsmeade so she can apparate here."

Ginny suddenly got up, "We have to go to St Mungo's," she said, voice shaky.

"Ginny, we can't do anything until McGonagall's come and told us what's happening. There's no point bursting into St Mungo's now, there'd be no point," Harry said soothingly.

"Minerva said she's going to bring Molly, Rose and Albus back too, she doesn't want to risk anything happening to them while she's gone," Mrs. Weasley explained.

But McGonagall turned up on the front doorstep about half an hour later, only two people stood behind her.

"Where's Albus?" Ginny demanded the second McGonagall had herded Molly and Rose into the kitchen.

"He refused to come," McGonagall said sheepishly. "I tried my hardest, but no matter what I said, he wouldn't come! He'll be in detention for a good while and Slytherin is very much behind in the running for the House Cup."

Ginny swore, "That stupid, stubborn boy!"

"I made sure he was safely with Angelina before I left, he won't be going anywhere by himself."

"How's James?" Harry interrupted.

"I haven't heard anything from the hospital since I was notified that James had arrived safely. They weren't allowed to tell me anything else. Teddy went with him but I haven't heard anything from him either."

"How was he before he left Hogwarts?"

"I've seen him look better. It's a serious injury but hopefully, they'll be able to heal it at St Mungo's and he'll be a lot better by Christmas."

"Can we go in now?" Ginny asked urgently.

"Yes. Yes, I think we probably should," McGonagall sighed.

"I'll come too," Hermione said. "It might get you in to see him quicker if the Minister for Magic is there. With any luck, I can speed things up for you."

"Mummy, daddy, can I come?" Lily asked as she pulled on Harry's sleeve.

"No, Lily, I think it would be better if you stayed here with grandma," Harry said gently as he tied up his shoe. "We'll be back as soon as we can, I promise."

He, Ginny, Hermione and McGonagall vanished and a few seconds later, the front door slammed shut.

Fred tried his best to keep everyone's minds off James by asking Molly and Rose how their first term back at Hogwarts had been, despite the guilt that was gnawing at the back of his heart. Molly, also keen on keeping everyone as cheerful as possible, was more than happy to tell everyone how much fun she'd had at Hogwarts.

Everyone helped Kreacher prepare dinner. Fred, George and Lee set out the table, while Ginny, Rose, Molly and Lily helped cut up vegetables and place them in the oven with a large lasagne. Mr. Weasley and Ron vanished upstairs to write letters out to Bill, Charlie and Percy to check that they were all ok.

And then all that anyone could do, was wait. It was torture. There was a silence that covered the kitchen like a coffin lid. When they'd all eaten, Mrs. Weasley took Lily and Roxy up to bed. The two girls were swiftly followed by Hugo and Fred jnr. and finally Molly, who had to borrow pyjamas from Roxanne because all her possessions were still at Hogwarts.

Nobody else wanted to go up to bed. They were all too anxious to make sure that James was ok. But one by one, everyone began to fall asleep in their seats until they were all slumped over the table, snoring.


	27. Chapter 26

Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone who is actually reading this, I'm not really one to do author's notes but I appreciate you all so much. Mischief Managed, as I've told one of you brilliant people, is finished on my laptop, and has been a while which is how I upload so much so often (sorry if it's all too quick for you aha). Once it is all uploaded onto here, I was thinking of staring a new story but I have three different ideas. I would appreciate your telling me which you'd prefer or if you'd like two or more, which one first. They are all linked to Mischief Managed. I'll leave the options below, please leave a review telling me your opinion. Equally, if there's something you'd prefer, tell me that idea too. Love you all! xx

Option 1- Fred and George's life at Hogwarts leading up to and after the Vow being made

Option 2- A follow up to Mischief Managed based right after it, following the life of a certain red-headed twin

Option 3- The twenty years after Fred 'died' from George's point of view up until some point in Mischief Managed

Chapter 26

Hours ticked too slowly on the old clock in the kitchen of twelve Grimmauld place. By the time the front door had swung open, it was half-past one in the morning. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Professor McGonagall filed into the kitchen, yawning. Everyone leapt to their feet- except Fred and George who merely lifted their heads groggily and moaned.

Ginny fell into a seat next to her mum, her head in her hands. Mrs. Weasley got up and flicked on the kettle and then returned to her seat.

"How is he?" she asked gently.

"Not brilliant," Harry yawned, sitting opposite Ginny. "He was still out cold when we left but the healers don't think he's going to die, it'll just take a while to get him up and moving."

"Well at least he'll survive," George said, yawning.

Everyone looked at him, completely exasperated.

"You've got to be positive about these things," George said with a shrug.

"George, I'm not too sure that that's the most encouraging thing-" Hermione began, but Harry interrupted.

"He's right. We were told that he'll be fine, and we have to focus on that."

Fred and George immediately slumped forward onto the table and fell asleep straight away, but everyone else stayed awake for at least a few more hours, slurping their tea in silence.

Then, early in the morning, everyone began to sluggishly climb the stairs to go to bed, leaving the twins sprawled across the wooden table, fast asleep.

Both twins awoke in the morning to renewed pains in their cuts. Fred groaned as he lifted his head groggily and looked at George, whose face was contorted in pain.

"I'm pretty sure that my brain is using a pickaxe to slice through my forehead and escape," he moaned.

Fred nodded slightly and buried his face in his arm. "What time is it?" he mumbled into his sleeve.

"Time for us to go to work," George replied, through a huge yawn.

"Urgh," Fred looked over his shoulder at his brother. "Why do mornings exist?"

Very lazily, he ran a hand through his hair which could have been a nest for a tired bird and stood up slowly. He was unsteady on his feet as though it was the first time he'd stood in days. As he walked across the kitchen, he stumbled slightly, a fledgling learning how to fly, and had to grab the table for support.

"Are you sure you can go to work today?" George asked as he too stood up.

"I'll be fine," Fred replied, but his voice quavered uncertainly.

"Mate, you look really ill."

"You don't look amazing either, George. I'll be fine."

"I don't care what I look like, I can pretty much guarantee that-"

"I said I'm going. I can go if you can," Fred snapped and began to make his way towards the door.

Before he could go through it, however, George let out a small cry of surprise and Fred whipped around. Fawkes had suddenly soared from his perch and landed on George's shoulder. The bright red and orange feathers of the beautifully majestic phoenix matched perfectly with George's hair as the bird looked sadly up and blinked a few times. He stretched his neck up and his bright yellow eyes filled up water. Fred and George held their breaths. Why was Fawkes, who'd been so shy for so many weeks, suddenly helping the twins? One single tear, a perfect sphere, dripped down the phoenix's face and tumbled off his beak, landing with a small splash on George's head. Immediately, part of the gash began to heal and as tear after tear cascaded onto George, who gasped in pain. The skin around the gash began to rebuild itself and the greenish tint vanished. But while his head looked healed, his face remained pale and contorted in pain.

"You'd have thought he could have done that before now," George said sarcastically as he stroked Fawkes.

Clearly not appreciating George's comment, Fawkes took off from his shoulder and in doing so, slapped George in the face with his wing. He then landed on Fred's shoulder, dipping his head down slightly. The gorgeous phoenix blinked slowly and his eyes began to flood with tears. One single droplet rolled gently down his beak and plummeted onto Fred's chest. He winced in pain. The tear was pleasantly warm, but the soft, burning sensation that filled his lungs after, meant there was no room for oxygen. But Fawkes didn't stop so even as the wound was healing, Fred felt as though he was drowning in hot lava.

He could vaguely feel his brother grab him around the waist and help support him. "I'm fine," he muttered.

"You have an interesting definition of fine," George replied.

Fred gasped, "I'll be ok. Honestly, I'm fine."

"Shall we go, then?" George asked and Fred felt a rush of gratitude towards his brother; he didn't force him to sit down or stay at home, George let him come with only the smallest of arguments. Fred was extremely glad of the lack of fuss as he shuffled out the kitchen together, stumbling occasionally.

The twins arrived at work fifteen minutes later, both walking completely normally and feeling almost perfect again. Fred's lungs felt like they contained a small, burning match, but at least this match left room for oxygen. When they opened the back door to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and went through to the main body of the shop, however, they didn't see what they wanted to. Outside the windows, at least thirty reporters stood in ambush, cameras raised and quills poised over parchment. Fred and George shared a quick look, then completely synchronised, removed their wands and slid the blinds down to block out the flashing lights of the cameras outside.

George turned on his brother, "You aren't telling them anything."

"I have to," Fred replied simply. "They're obviously here because they've somehow found out about James and the other accidents at Hogwarts."

"Go home, Fred."

"No. We can't keep hiding, that's how we'll get killed."

"You think that telling everyone that you betrayed them in the war is going to keep you safe?" George demanded.

Fred said nothing as he moved around the shop, unlocking doors and restocking shelves.

"Fred, you have five minutes until this shop opens. Either you go home safely and I'll say you're ill, or, you face the reporters, everyone hates you and you're in lots of danger."

"You know what I'm going to do, George."

"Go home?" George said, hopefully.

Fred lifted the blinds and the shop was illuminated with blinding flashes of light and shouts from outside. With a scowl at his brother, George unlocked the door and reporters flooded into the shop, surrounding the twins and firing questions at them. The two of them were pushed together, back to back, heads pounding and senses screaming.

The questions attacked them from every angle so when Fred finally replied, he had to yell as loudly as he could to be heard.

"Shut up!" he hollered over the crowds. "Just stop! I will talk to one of you and only one!" There was a groan of disappointment. "You all work for the same newspaper, surely only one of you needs an interview! Who will it be?"

The reporters all looked nervously amongst themselves. Fred could tell that all of them wanted to take the interview, but didn't want to say so. Even George had shrunk back slightly from his brother, as though scared he'd suddenly start shouting again.

Fred turned to the crowd which had collectively moved back against the window, "Who's coming?"

A short, plump wizard stepped forward. Shakily, he raised a hand and his fuzzy brown moustache twitched as he said, "I will. Can I bring my photographer?"

"No. I said I'd talk to _one_ of you," Fred snapped.

"You wouldn't have to talk to my photographer," said the stumpy man, "He'd just be there."

"Fine. Follow me."

"Erm, how much is this-" he started, holding up and Anti-Gravity Hat.

"Hurry up."

The man squealed with either excitement or nervousness- Fred wasn't sure which- dropped the Anti-Gravity Hat and indicated for his photographer, a tall, thin man with long, black hair, to follow. Without looking at anyone else, Fred marched through the shop and opened the red, wooden door to his and George's office. He stormed across the small room and sunk into a chair behind the desk.

The office was a small room, with filing cabinets lined one wall and on the other was a small door that led to the basement. Next to the cellar entrance was a cork board with ideas and plans for new products and family photos.

"Take a seat," Fred said shortly to the reporter.

"Thank you."

Fred tried very hard to ignore the flashing lights from the camera in the back corner as he snapped his head to look forward.

"So, erm… could you explain where you've been for twenty years?"

"Yep," Fred said, then stopped.

"Please."

Fred took a deep breath to build up tension and then said, to the reporter's disappointment, "I've been at my house."

"Oh," his face fell, "Well, how did you survive?"

Fred didn't reply for a while. He couldn't think of a sarcastic or smart answer to the question so was forced to give a full explanation of everything from the Quidditch World Cup to the Battle of Hogwarts. When he'd finished, Fred realised that the flashing lights of the camera had stopped and the photographer now stood, frozen, mouth gaping. The reporter's quill hovered, unmoving above the sheet of parchment and his eyes were wide and shocked. Fred fought back laughter at their faces, but just managed to keep a straight face; he was trying desperately hard to stay calm and mess with the reporters as much as possible.

"Well… erm… thank you, I'm sure that'll make an interesting report."

"Is there anything else I can tell you?"

"No, no. That's all."

"Great. And take the hat for free, then get out my shop."

Fred got up and left the office. As he passed, Fred glanced at the parchment which the stout reporter was clutching. There was nothing written on it. Fred smiled and, leaving the two awed men in his office, he joined George behind the till.

"That should give them something to write about," he said as his brother handed a bag full of products over to a customer.

"What did you tell them?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

When the last of the customers had left that evening, Fred and George began packing up and locking everything away. Both of them had avoided talking about the reporters that had flooded the shop that morning, but also knew that once the article had been published, hundreds of people would be rushing to their shop, demanding answers. They didn't want to think about the consequences. Once they realised what Fred had done, no one would want to visit their shop again. Just when they'd really ben starting to gain popularity and sales were building up, everything could come crumbling down again.

When the two of them reached Grimmauld place, they entered the kitchen to find everyone but Harry and Ginny sitting there grimly.

"Where are-" Fred began.

"St. Mungo's," Ron interrupted. "They left a while ago."

Fred's heart sank under the ever-growing weight of the guilt hiding there.

"James will be alright, won't he?"

No one replied. Fred turned away from his family and ran from the room. Taking the stairs two at a time, he bounded up to his room, slamming the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed.

He didn't go down for dinner because he didn't want to face anyone with the fear that if he opened his mouth, the immense amount of guilt which had been growing in his chest would burst out and he'd end up crumbling completely. The squeaking sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut gain shot into his ears- Harry and Ginny had returned.

Fred didn't want to hear the conversation. He didn't want to know how much damage he'd caused. When the twins had got home from work, Fawkes was nowhere to be seen, which irritated Fred as he could have healed James in a heartbeat. Ignoring the muffled voices from downstairs and the gasps and cries that exploded every so often, Fred buried his head in his pillow. The sooner he could think of a way to heal the shattered vow, the better. Fawkes was the key; the guards had said so! Or at least, they thought so.

As Fred drifted off to sleep, images began to swim through his mind. The Quidditch World Cup… Death Eaters… Lucius Malfoy… his own, terrified face… the handshake that showed the making of the Unbreakable Vow… a single drop of silvery water… and the traumatic events of the Battle of Hogwarts.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Molly awoke to light flooding her room. Lazily, she rolled over and seeing that both Roxanne, Rose and Lily were both still asleep, she silently slipped out of bed and dressed, creeping across the room and out the door. She tip-toed down the stairs and entered the kitchen where Kreacher was stirring a large pot of bubbling porridge.

"Do you need a hand, Kreacher?" Molly offered.

"Kreacher is managing," the old house elf replied with a smile. Kreacher looked rather odd when he grinned like this. His grey, wrinkled skin and squinted, bright green eyes gave him an evil look that just didn't seem to suit him.

"I'll get some bowls for you," Molly said. "How many do we need?"

"The two Mister Weasley's have left for work. So have Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley."

"Right, so we need some for Lee, grandma, Auntie Ginny, Fred, Roxy, Lily, Hugo, Rose, Uncle Ron, me and you," Molly counted the bowls out as she unstacked them. Kreacher heaved the big pot of porridge over to the kitchen table as Fred jnr. and Hugo trooped tiredly into the kitchen, still wrapped in their dressing gowns. They sank onto chairs and Molly handed each of them a bowl of porridge and a plate stacked with blueberries and raspberries. The boys eagerly pulled their bowls towards them but hesitated in pouring fruit over it.

"They're definitely fruit?" Hugo said cautiously.

"What else would it be?" Molly asked.

"Vruit," replied Fred.

"What?"

"Vruit and Fegetables. They're joke shop products, basically raw vegetables disguised as fruit. Already, I've eaten a sprout apple, two radish raspberries and some turnip pineapple," Fred picked up a blueberry and sniffed it although he was checking that it wasn't mouldy. Apparently deciding that it was indeed a blueberry, he popped it into his mouth and chewed cautiously. Everyone stared at him as though he was in an intense final of a Quidditch match. Suddenly, Fred started gagging and spat the now green blueberry onto the table.

"Urgh, mushy peas!" he spluttered while Hugo and Molly burst out laughing.

"Try a raspberry, see if they're alright," Hugo giggled.

"I'm not putting any more of those anywhere near my mouth!" Fred said. "I never want to even touch a radish raspberry ever again if I can help it!"

"I'll do it, then," Molly said, reaching forward and selecting a raspberry. She threw it into her mouth with her eyes shut tightly.

An explosion of disgusting flavours shot into her mouth, but Molly tried her best to keep her expression normal.

"They're just normal raspberries," she lied.

Apparently reassured, Fred took a handful of raspberries and tipped them into his porridge. Trying desperately hard not to start laughing, Molly watched her cousin intently. She didn't have to wait long; the same second Fred had spooned his breakfast into his mouth and started to chew, porridge was sent flying across the room. Molly ducked as he spat the dyed red food in her direction and hit Kreacher in the face.

"Molly, you little-"

"What's going on?" a sharp voice interrupted.

Ginny had entered the kitchen and stood, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in the doorway.

"We spilt some porridge," Hugo lied.

"On Kreacher's face?"

"Apparently."

"Hmm." Ginny sat down next to Fred and took a ladle full of porridge which she scooped into her bowl. Thankfully, she didn't reach for any fruit- perhaps she'd had her own embarrassing encounters with radish raspberries- and as she began to eat, she said, "I'm going in to see James after breakfast. Lily and your grandma are coming, do any of you want to?"

"I'll come," Molly said, "I'm sick of being stuck in here."

"Are you ready to leave as soon as everyone else has eaten?" Ginny asked.

As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen, swiftly followed by Lily and Roxanne. Kreacher, who had wiped his face clean with a tea towel, handed the three of them a bowl of steaming porridge so Molly leapt up and quickly cleared the bowl of vruit. When she got some quizzical looks from her family, she lied, "They're mouldy," and tipped them into the bin.

Half an hour later, Molly, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Lily were all hurrying through the streets of London towards St Mungo's. They stayed huddled together against the wind and rain, constantly alert. Ever since the accidents at Hogwarts, no one had gone anywhere alone. Everyone was terrified of being attacked and made sure that they always had their wands on them, even if they were underage. There weren't many people around. The rain seemed to have created a barrier to prevent people from going outside. This was both good and bad for Molly and her family. Because the streets were so quiet, it meant they could move quickly through the streets without bother, but it did mean that whenever someone appeared from the shadows of the fog around them everyone immediately saw them as a threat, becoming extremely jumpy and jittery.

It seemed to take years to reach the point where they looked as though they'd swum the English Channel fully dressed and Mrs. Weasley said, "This is it."

Molly looked around, confused, "Where?"

"Right there." Mrs. Weasley pointed at an old abandoned shop with the sign, 'Purge and Dowse, Ltd.'.

The windows were smashed and old, crooked mannequins stooped behind them. The inside of the shop was dusty and pieces of paint and wood were strewn across the stripped wooden floor. Dead flies littered every available surface and cobwebs lurked in corners.

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, "Hello there, we're here to visit James Potter."

Molly raised her eyebrows in confusion. Surely a mannequin couldn't actually hear her! Dummies were inanimate objects! They didn't have working ears to hear anything. But Molly was mistaken. She watched in amazement as the dummy raised its arm, beckoned them forward and winked cheekily. Ginny took hold of Lily's arm and pushed past Mrs. Weasley. Then, they vanished. Simply consumed by the glass. Mrs. Weasley grabbed Molly and pulled her roughly after Ginny.

Before she knew it, Molly was standing in a surgically clean reception area. There were no spider webs or dead flies. The smashed windows had been replaced with shiny new, sparkling ones and the crooked mannequins were nowhere to be seen. The strangest queue of people Molly had ever seen stood before them. A pair of witches near the front of the line had large, purple boils all over their skin and a short wizard at the very front seemed to have octopus' tentacles sprouting from his ears. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak to the receptionist, bubbles flew into the air around him. Molly stepped out the way as a witch whose eyes had multiplied all over her body and were peering out from beneath her sleeves, pushed past her and joined the queue behind three people whose heads had turned into balloons. In the far corner of the room, a miserable witch sat on the base of a staircase. At first glance, nothing seemed to be wrong with her, but the closer Molly looked, she saw that the lady had far too many fingers on her left hand. In fact, her arm drooped right down onto the floor with the excess weight.

It was the most curious bunch of people that Molly had ever seen but she didn't have much more time to look around as she was soon being whisked away by her grandmother towards the set of stairs. They passed even more strange patients on the way up the stairs. One old wizard stopped them and asked them if they knew how to turn himself into an anteater as he was bored of being a cheetah. Only a few seconds later as they were approaching floor one, Creature-Induced Injuries, a witch with springs instead of legs bounded past them, swiftly followed by two very flustered healers.

The next set of stairs was just as busy as the first. One man who had what looked like a small black mole with the nose of a platypus and beady black eyes stuck dangling on his face was wondering around blindly. A pair of witches hovered in mid-air occasionally bumping their heads on the ceiling or bashing into each other. Molly had to fight back waves of laughter as a wizard carried a portrait of who Molly could only assume was his wife and was shouting, "When I get out of here Nigel, I'm going to curse you into next year!" Molly quickly decided that she didn't want to know what had happened.

By the time they'd reached floor three- Potions and Plant Poisoning- all four of them were out of breath, but very amused. They passed several bays full of ill witches and wizards until finally Ginny said, "This one," and turned into one of the wards. Molly tried not to look at the other people in the beds; hearing their coughing and spluttering was bad enough. James' bed was at the very end of the bay, next to the window and he smiled as they grew nearer to him. Three large tooth holes had been pierced in his neck, each dark red and bruised around the edge. The veins in his neck were deep green and black and he couldn't move his head at all without crying out in pain.

"Thank goodness," he muttered as his mother attacked him with a hug. "It's so boring in here. And disgusting," he added looking across the room at one of the other beds. Molly did not to follow his gaze.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked pulling up a chair and sitting next to her son. "Any better?"

"Honestly, I'm fine. Apparently if it'd taken any longer to get me here, I might not be, but the wound has almost healed already!"

"That's great. Although, if that's almost healed, I'd hate to have seen it before," Mrs. Weasley said, also sitting by the bed. "We'll tell your dad when we get home," she added quietly to Molly, "It'll cheer him up."

Hearing what his grandma had said, James asked, "Uncle Fred doesn't blame himself, does he?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded grimly and James sighed, "I don't suppose you've seen the Daily Prophet today have you?"

"No, actually. We left before the post owl delivered it," Ginny said, only just realising.

"Oh," James reached across to his bedside table and handed Molly a newspaper. A moving picture of her father and her Uncle was on the front page and as she watched, the two of them whipped out their wands and lowered the blinds of the shop, covering a sea of photographers. Molly's eyes skidded over the report.

 _The Weasley's- Traitors?_

 _Yesterday morning, our_ Daily Prophet _reporters visited the joke shop_ Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, _Diagon Alley, in hope of speaking to co-founder Fred Weasley who was believed to be dead- killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. Recently, he has made a miraculous recovery from his alleged death, and reporters went to his shop to find out what he's been doing for twenty years._

 _As it turns out, his story didn't begin with the battle which took place in 1998, but three years earlier, when the Quidditch World Cup was held here in England. After the match, the campsites were famously attacked by a group of possibly drunk wizards, but they didn't stop at kidnapping a Muggle family. Fred Weasley told us that he was split from his brother and sister and ended up in the arms of a group of the rioters. His life was threatened and he was forced to make an Unbreakable Vow with one of the men, Lucius Malfoy. "They made me vow to tell them any information that I knew about the Order of the Phoenix," (a society set up to fight in the war) "and in return, they'd make sure that none of my family was seriously injured or killed in the war," Fred Weasley reported._

 _We were informed that Mr. Weasley told no one in his family what he had done and that he did slip up a few times causing his father and at least two of his brothers to be seriously injured. The information he passed on during the war twenty years ago could have resulted in us losing and many more dying including Harry Potter, hero of the war and best friend to Mr. Weasley's brother Ronald. Although apparently, Mr. Weasley seems to be getting on perfectly well with Mr. Potter, many are wondering whether the full story has actually been told yet._

 _Mr. Weasley told us that he survived the war due to the protection of the Vow and that the oath was broken when the war ended as the promise relied on the war continuing. As he'd kept up his side of the Vow, for the most part, Mr. Weasley couldn't die._

 _On top of this act of treachery, many strange incidents have been happening to relatives of Mr. Weasley at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry which is also raising suspicion. While it is hard to tell whether or not the two occurrences are linked, to many, they don't seem to be a coincidence._

"What a load of rubbish!" Ginny, who'd been reading over Molly's shoulder, exclaimed. "Now everyone's going to think that Harry hates Fred!"

"Because only you are allowed to hate him, are you?" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"But, as long as daddy says that he doesn't mind, then it doesn't really matter, does it?" Lily said nervously from her seat on Ginny's lap.

"Well, not necessarily," Ginny said, "Not everyone will accept that your uncle made the Vow to protect his family."

Molly handed the paper to Mrs. Weasley who read it quickly then threw it onto the bed, fuming. "I can't believe he actually gave that interview!"

"That doesn't matter now. It's happened. We're just going to have to deal with the consequences," Ginny said although she too looked very put out.

They spent the rest of the morning chatting quite happily but were forced to evacuate when a particularly strict looking healer marched into the bay and shooed them out, barking angrily. Mrs. Weasley led the others up to the tearoom on the fifth floor. They sat down at a small table in the corner, away from everyone else in silence. Molly was wracking her brains to think of a way to stop the Vow from killing her whole family. If Fawkes really was the key, then why did he fly away? And where did he go? Then, quite magically, a thought struck her as though the pieces of a jigsaw had finally fitted together and the picture was clear.

Her face lit up as she asked, to nobody in particular, "How do you make an Unbreakable Vow?"

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny looked at her curiously, taken by surprise at the sudden outburst.

"Why?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Well, I've had an idea, but I need to know how the vows are made first," Molly replied hurriedly.

"The two people who are making the Vow have to kneel opposite each other and grasp right hands. There must be a third person there to make the Vow who holds their wand tip on the two linked hands. The first person will ask a set of conditions which the other must agree to. Every time a term is accepted a stream of red light casts itself around the connected hands. In your father's case, both him and Malfoy will have asked each other terms which both must have agreed to," Mrs. Weasley explained, still with an edge of suspicion.

"So the two people hold hands?" Molly asked, eyes lighting up with a sparkle.

"Yes."

"I think I know how to break it!" she exclaimed loudly, jumping to her feet and earning some odd looks from patients and visitors around her.

"What? Really?"

"Yes! But I need to check something first."

"What?"

"I need to go and see dad."

Molly ran down the stairs, ignoring the strange illness of those around her. If she was right, if this worked- her heart pounded with excitement. With her grandma hurrying behind her, dropping further back as Molly bounded down the stairs, she ran out into the streets of London, winding her way around corners until she reached the Leaky Cauldron. Molly burst through the wooden door which squealed in protest and then she bolted past the bar and into the back alley. There, she had to wait for her grandma to let her into Diagon Alley- she didn't know which brick she had to touch. It was a few minutes before Mrs. Wesley came puffing into the lane, red-faced and heaving for breath. Gulping in air, she removed her wand from her robes and placed the tip of it on one of the red bricks.

Diagon Alley sprung to life in front of her as though it was a fresh seedling in Spring. Shoppers were dotted around like flowers, but Molly didn't have time to admire the assortment of shops as she was soon darting down the road. People seemed to sprout up in front of her so she had to dodge them manically, sidestepping and skidding down the street until she was finally standing outside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Pausing only briefly to catch her breath, Molly pushed open the shop door and pushed through bouquets of people until she reached the till. She drooped slightly when she saw George standing there, but didn't hesitate.

"Where's dad?" she demanded.

"Out in the basement. Why?"

"I need to speak to him. Now."

"Well, he's working. Why do you need him?"

"I think I know how to break the Vow!"

"Oh. Right," George said, accidently dropping the product he was holding. "Well, he'll be up soon. Wait, did you come by yourself?"

"No. Grandma's with me."

"Is she?"

"She was; I ran ahead."

Suddenly, the door on the other side of the shop swung open and Fred appeared holding a large box.

Without noticing Molly, he heaved the box onto the counter and sighed, "That is so heavy!"

"Mate, you do realise that you have a wand that you can use to make the box fly up the stairs?" George pointed out.

"Oh yeah. I guess I'm still not used to having magic back," Fred said, frowning slightly. "Oh. Hi, Molly. What are you doing here?"

"Apparently, she knows a way to break the Vow," George said.

"I don't _know_ , I only have an idea."

They paused as a young witch came forward to pay.

"Thank you!" Fred said then turned to Molly. "Office?"

Molly followed her dad through the crowds of people and through the red door to her father's office.

"So, what was your idea?"

"Well, I thought that maybe you and Malfoy would have to sort of remake the Vow, with the same terms, but in reverse, I suppose," Molly began as the door swung open and George slid in to listen.

"But how would Fawkes be involved?" Fred asked.

"Phoenix tears can heal anything, right?"

Fred nodded.

"Well if you were holding hands like you were making the Vow, then Fawkes' tears would fall onto the two of you and it would be like healing a broken bone, but a broken Vow."

"So the Vow would be reversing and healing at the same time!" Fred exclaimed, "Molly you're a genius!"

But George, who wasn't as happy as his brother said, "The only problem is that the Death Dater you said was the Bonder when you made the Vow was killed in the battle at Hogwarts."

"That's fine!" Fred said, beaming, "We have Molly's wand."

"So?" George said, confused.

"So, the wand wouldn't have been made if it I'd been killed at the World Cup. It's also made with a wing feather that belonged to-"

"Fawkes!" George finished.

"If Fawkes is reversing the spell in the first place, then a Bonder using a wand with the feather of that phoenix should hopefully be able to stand in!"

"That's really twisted," George said uncertainly.

"It's our only option. How come you thought if it?"

"When we were in St Mungo's visiting James, it occurred to me that pretty much every injury can be healed with the tears of a phoenix even one's made with magic. And then, I thought that an Unbreakable Vow is just like a curse-induced injury- if you don't go about treating it properly, it could essentially kill you. And then I just put the two things together."

"That makes sense!"

"Makes sense?" George asked.

"Yes, last night, I had this weird dream. It made no sense at the time, but now I know what it was," Fred explained, "It wasn't really like a proper dream- just images strung together. There was the Quidditch World Cup, a tear drop, me and Malfoy and the Battle of Hogwarts. I suppose the tear drop must be Fawkes' and-"

"There's another problem," said George, who didn't seem so impressed by the idea, "Fawkes flew away yesterday, we don't know where he is."

Molly's shoulders drooped. She'd been so pumped to tell her dad about her idea, it hadn't even occurred to her that they no longer had Fawkes.

"At least we know how to stop it," Fred said positively with a scowl at his brother. "It's a shame everything is so complicated, though, I hope it works. In the meantime, though, who's looking after the shop?"

Suddenly, George ran from the room and back into the shop. Molly had a chance to catch a glance at the long queue of impatient looking people in front of the till before the door slammed shut again. Her dad dived-bombed her with a hug and kept repeatedly whispering in her ear, "You're so, so amazing."


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Christmas was looming nearer. Thankfully, not many people had taken the article seriously and decided that Fred was not a traitor so when the twins brought out their new set of products for Christmas, sales for the joke shop rocketed. They no longer had the time to worry about the Vow, as long as everyone was together at Grimmauld place, Fred and George were quite happy to leave for work early in the morning and as Christmas grew ever closer, they began keeping the shop open later into the evening. Every single new item sold out within the first day so with only a week before Christmas, Fred and George had been forced to bring in more and more stocks. At the end of every day, the shelves were practically empty and the crowds of people that flooded the shop every day meant that both Ron and Mr. Weasley came in with Fred and George every morning to help.

Diagon Alley had never looked so beautiful to Fred. A while after the twins had saved Fawkes from the island, the storms had stopped which allowed crisp snow to drift gracefully down every night. When morning rose, the shops were coated in a beautiful duvet of perfect white. A twenty-foot tall Christmas tree had been placed at the entrance to Gringotts, decorated with red and gold floating baubles and long icicles, with a glittering star on the top. Every shop had decorations plastered to the walls and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was no exception. Bewitched snowflakes stuck to the windows, sliding down the floor beneath it and forming a huge snowman, complete with a hat and scarf, that waved at everyone who passed. Garlands of holly bordered the door and when someone passed underneath it, it would shower them heavily with snow. Fairy lights which flashed different colours were woven around hanging mistletoe.

On Christmas Eve, Fred and George kept the shop open until ten at night. Wrapped up warmly in hats and thick coats, they were quite content walking home with the occasional snowflake landing gently on their faces.

By the time they reached Grimmauld place, snow was resting on their shoulders like little parrots and their noses were tinted red from the cold. The stairs were lined with tinsel and it sparkled as Fred and George made their way down the hall and into the kitchen. Everyone but Albus had returned from Hogwarts and Kat had also come over with Willow. James had been discharged from St Mungo's so he could spend Christmas with his family. Three Fire Fungi had been placed down the middle of the table, each smelling like cinnamon and nutmeg and burning a deep scarlet red. No one would be going to work the next day which meant that they could all spend the whole day together. Fred was convinced it would be the best Christmas he'd ever had; he'd be with all his family for the first time in twenty years. His mother was planning the biggest Christmas dinner she'd ever made and Hermione and Ginny had spent the day icing a spectacular cake. Bill, Fleur, Dominique, Victoire, Louis, Charlie, Percy, Audrey, Lucy and Molly were also all coming over to stay.

Nearly everyone retired upstairs early with the hopes of getting up early the next morning. Fred, George and Lee, however, stayed up late, setting up small surprises around the house for everyone to find on Christmas. The three of them spent about an hour carrying everyone's presents into the drawing room where they then bewitched them to float on the ceiling like balloons. They then hid all the cards and rewrote them on Insulting Parchment so that they said things such as, 'Merry Christmas. You smell like burnt turkey and your hair looks like a Brussel sprout.' Then, they changed all the chairs in the kitchen into snowmen.

But they didn't just pull pranks. At midnight, they were still enchanting the ceilings to look as though it was a fresh winter's day and snow prancing down from the clouds and dusting everything so it looked brand new. Intricate ice sculptures were placed around the house so that they twirled and danced as people passed and sparkling lights lined mantle pieces and door frames. It was enchanting, every room looked like it belonged in a Winter Wonderland ice palace.

Christmas day was indeed the best day that Fred had ever had. Everyone thought the house looked brilliant and when Bill, Fleur and the others arrived at about 11, everyone was ready to start cooking lunch. Mrs. Weasley had decided to cook it entirely by hand which meant that everyone had to help in order to get it done in time. A turkey as big as a cauldron had been slowly cooking since the early hours of the morning thanks to Kreacher, so the entire house smelt mouth-wateringly delicious. Everyone was having such a good time, they didn't even shout at the twins for transfiguring the chairs into snowmen.

After Christmas lunch, Fred had either the best or worst idea he'd ever had.

"Let's all pull our crackers at the same time!" Fred said excitedly, "Cross over arms and pull two with the people on either side of you."

After a deafening bang, the kitchen was filled with mountains of smoke which engulfed everyone as not only were wizarding crackers extremely loud and contained the strangest gifts, but they also produced lots of blue smoke. Briefly blinded, there was a loud scuffling as everyone tried to find each other, interrupted only by Fred and George's laughter and high five.

Once the smoke had cleared, the rest of dinner was just as brilliant as the first part. Mrs. Weasley's Christmas pudding was spectacular and Hermione and Ginny's cake, decorated with hand-piped snowflakes was mouth-wateringly delicious.

They spent several minutes jumping up to catch the floating presents in the drawing room which probably wasn't a good idea after such a huge lunch and then had far too much fun reading the insults on their fake cards before chasing each other outside and commencing a snowball fight.

Completely drenched and out of breath, nobody returned to the warmth of the house until the sun was starting to vanish on the horizon. They snuggled with hot chocolates in front of the fire, wrapped in blankets and their newly opened Weasley jumpers. Harry and Ron, who'd had far too much to drink, were singing very slurred and very loud Christmas songs to everyone else's entertainment. Willow curled up on Kat's knee contentedly as Molly tickled her behind the ears and George had conjured up a small penguin to fly around the room as though ice skating, twirling and leaping gracefully.

At about 7, Kreacher snuck in to join them, carrying a large flagon of warm butterbeer and thirty mugs which he handed out to everyone, keeping one for himself too. Butterbeer for house elves was a lot stronger than it was for everyone else and so the more Kreacher drank, the tipsier he became. Soon, he was jumping around the room, spilling butterbeer everywhere before collapsing on the floor.

Charlie, Percy, Audrey, Lucy and Molly all left a few hours later, but Bill, Fleur, Victoire, Dominique and Louis were staying overnight.

It was extremely late before anyone even thought about going to bed, but as people slumped off one by one, a calm sense of peace settled on the house. The light, fluffy snow which had continuously dropped all day, now began to fall heavier so that white speckles sparkled against the dark night sky.

The week following Christmas ended much too soon for Fred. It seemed that they'd woken up on Boxing Day and then Molly, Rose and James were boarding the Hogwarts Express to return to school.

But, as time rolled on, Fawkes didn't reappear and everyone grew more and more fearful of leaving the house alone. Fred had been convinced that he'd be able to break the Vow with Malfoy quickly, but more problems seemed to be jumping in front of him. Fawkes had left without a trace, Molly and her wand were both now back at Hogwarts and nobody could go anywhere without being approached by another group of wizards, all of whom looked rather menacing. The twins had to apparate to and from work every day, opening later and closing earlier and strange, unexplainable illnesses were beginning to spread around the house.

The perfect white snow had turned into mushy sleet and grey clouds hovered over the skies menacingly. It was as February was coming to a close when a thought suddenly struck Fred. He ran down the stairs two at a time and burst into the kitchen, nearly knocking Kreacher off his feet.

"Oh, sorry, Kreacher," Fred apologised, squeezing past the elf and entering the kitchen where Lee, George and Mrs. Weasley were sitting. "Mum, do you remember ages ago in the summer holidays when I'd been out searching for the source of the storm and I came back to the Burrow instead of going home to Kat?"

"Yes, I think so," Mrs. Weasley replied in between gulps of tea, "Why?"

"Because when you opened the door, you were surprised to see that it was only me. You were worried that it was someone else. Who did you think was there?"

A very awkward silence fell on the room. George coughed and shuffled in his seat uncomfortably and Mrs. Weasley suddenly became very interested in her right fingernails.

"I thought you'd forgotten," she said after a while.

"I had," Fred admitted. "Who was it?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Lucius Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Fred repeated. "You're joking."

His mum shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Fred demanded angrily.

"We… I didn't think you needed to know."

"Why not?"

"Because of what he said," George interrupted.

"Which was?"

"He said that the only way to stop the Vow killing everyone in the family was…" Mrs. Weasley stopped and put a trembling hand to her mouth.

"For you to die," George finished solemnly.

"But it's fine, we know a different way!" Lee pointed out.

"How do we know that it'll work?" Mrs. Weasley said. "We don't know that it won't kill you afterwards."

"But why does he have to die?" Lee asked. "You all said yourselves that the Vow follows people to the grave. If Fred dies, surely Malfoy would die too."

"Because if the Vow hadn't been made, I would have died at the World Cup."

"But so would George and your dad and Bill!"

"So, you're saying the way to stop the Vow is to let it win?" Fred interrupted angrily. "To let it kill me, all the kids, George, dad, Bill and who knows who else!"

"Fred please," Mrs. Weasley begged, "Molly's idea might work, you never know."

"That's the point!" Fred shouted, "We don't know if it'll work. Anyway, we still need Fawkes who's vanished, and Molly who's at Hogwarts, and Malfoy, who… no one knows where he is. By the time we've found everyone, half the family could be dead!"

"Don't say that!" Mrs. Weasley said shakily. "I fully trust that you can sort it out. Why don't you write a letter to Malfoy explaining your idea and see what he thinks?"

"Malfoy's such a foul pig, he probably won't even agree to do it, even if the plan works," Fred said sourly.

Fred did, however, return to his room and sit at the desk, quill poised over his parchment, and write:

 _Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

 _I hope you are well._ (This was a lie but Fred thought he should probably be polite as wanted he Malfoy's help) _As you are probably aware, the Unbreakable Vow we made over twenty years ago, has now resurfaced and is attacking members of my family. I'm not sure whether it is affecting you in the same way, but we obviously want it stopped._

 _In regards to your suggestion that you made in the summer, for obvious reasons, we would like to avoid that so instead, we have come up with a new idea, if you'd be willing to help. We thought that if the two of joined hands and remade the Vow with the same conditions but in reverse, then perhaps, the effects of the Vow would be reversed. For that to work, we'd need you to be present._

 _Best Wishes, Fred Weasley._

Fred read and reread the letter over and over before taking it downstairs to the kitchen.

All the owls had gone back to Hogwarts so the next morning on the way to work, Fred dropped in at the post office on Diagon Alley so he could send his letter. As he was heading back to the joke shop to meet George, Fred accidently bumped into a very angry looking wizard who had a mask covering his face and was dressed in entirely black robes.

"Sorry," Fred muttered, sidestepping the man who didn't reply, but instead raised his wand.

Fred ducked just in time. A red beam of light flew above his head hitting the shop behind. Fred whipped out his wand and sent a stunning spell back towards his attacker. Shopkeepers were dashing out of their shops, although it wasn't clear whether they were they to stop the fight, or encourage it. Fred ducked and dodged the beams that continuously were sent flying towards him. They were shooting so fast, Fred didn't have time to send any back.

"George! Help me!" Fred shouted at his brother who was running forward from the joke shop, "Please, before I get my head blown off!" he screamed and ducked again. " _Stupefy!_ "

His final curse hit its target. The attacker was swept off his feet and sent flying through the air. Breathing heavily, Fred picked himself up and pocketed his wand. There was a buzzing in his ears as though a vicious bee had flown into it and got stuck.

"Are you alright?" He heard George's vague voice over the persistent bee's calls.

Fred nodded and looked around. Immediately, he was glad he'd managed to duck and dodge the spells. The shops around him were pretty much in ruins. Signs had fallen from the walls, windows smashed and bricks crumbled to the ground. Many shopkeepers and early morning shoppers were staring in awe at him as he made his way towards the masked man who now lay sprawled on the ground.

"He… he's one of the men that… that guarded the island," stuttered Fred to George. "Look at his mask. They're… they're just like Death Eater masks."

George, who'd bent down to remove the mask, gasped in surprise, "Malfoy?"

Fred looked at the long, pale face, pointed nose and small pursed lips of Lucius Malfoy. Something obvious smacked Fred in the face. The vaguely familiar voice he'd heard on the island George, the cold sneer and icy snap could belong to no one but Lucius Malfoy. "I've only just given the letter to an owl!" Fred exclaimed. "There's no way he already got it."

"Clearly he decided he was going to end the Vow his own way," George suggested, kicking Malfoy in the leg, a look of disgust on his face.

"What are we going to do with him? We can't just leave him here," Fred lowered his voice because people were starting to crowd around them.

"Take him into the joke shop."

Together, Fred and George heaved Malfoy up and half dragged, half carried him towards the joke shop. It was tough work, even though the shop was only a few hundred metres away; Malfoy was extremely heavy and wasn't very cooperative.

It took several minutes and by the time Fred and George had lugged Malfoy into the office, taken his wand and tied him to the chair securely, they were both sweaty and out of breath.

"Should we wait or revive him?" George asked with the same look of disgust and a turned-up nose.

"We might as well just revive him," Fred said, "We need to open soon."

" _Rennervate_ ," George muttered half-heartedly.

A long groan emerged from Malfoy's mouth and his eyes fluttered open. His shoulder jerked as though he was trying to raise an arm, but the restraints held him back. A sneer spread across his face as he looked around the room.

"Ah. I see you have me trapped," Malfoy mocked. "I've been beaten."

"Why did you try to kill me?" Fred shot.

"Kill you? Oh, you mean that mishap outside? Well, it should have happened quite some time ago. I only thought I'd make up for what I should have done over twenty years ago."

"Why? What difference does it make to you?" George asked. "You weren't protecting anyone by making that Vow."

"However true that may be, you must consider the hatred I am receiving because of what I 'forced you to do'. Oh, the letters I am getting. 'How could you make someone betray their friends and family?' 'You should be in Azkaban.' 'Why did anyone let you off?' It really is awful."

"You're getting hate mail?" George repeated with an air of amusement.

"Yes. Tragic isn't it? Your brother was smart enough when giving his little interview to make sure that _he_ was completely innocent one."

"So you thought that murdering me would sort it out? Did you think that maybe that would make you even more hated?"

"Don't be stupid, Fred," George said sarcastically. "Being a murderer is the latest thing. Makes you so popular."

"Your little jokes will get you killed," threatened Malfoy, glaring at the twins, "Or perhaps you think that because you cheated death once, you'll be able to again."

"I didn't cheat death," Fred said coolly. "It cheated me."

An evil atmosphere set above the three of them thickly.

"Help me stop it," Fred said after a while. "It won't do you any harm; if you help, I'll be sure to give an interview for the Daily Prophet for you, explaining how bravely you helped or side in the war."

His words sliced through the mood like a knife through butter. Cogs turned in Malfoy's brain; a well-trained machine. Obviously caught by this request, he pursed his sour lips together. Hoping that they'd caught Malfoy out, Fred and George raised their eyebrows expectantly at Malfoy who only sneered back.

"Do you know, I think I'd rather kill you?"

"I've never been so terrified of an unarmed wizard," Fred said sarcastically.

"I think I wet myself with fright," George agreed.

"I can feel my knees shaking."

"Help us fix the Vow," George said dangerously.

"No," Malfoy snarled.

"Help us fix the vow!" George repeated, a little louder.

"Never!"

"HELP US FIX THE VOW!" he bellowed.

"What's in it for me?"

"No more hate mail, no more reports in the Daily Prophet and you'll never have to see us again," Fred said, taking a step towards Malfoy, placing his hands on either side of the chair and leaning forward to speak quietly into Malfoy's ear, "Please."

Malfoy's cold, hard eyes mined deep into Fred's pleading, kind ones.

"It won't do you any harm," said George, "You'll only be doing us a favour."

Silence took over, dominating the small office.

"I will help you," Malfoy spat, "I'm not saying your plan will work it probably won't- but I will help."

"Good," George snapped, folding his arms and scowling at Malfoy.

"But I have a condition," Malfoy continued casually, "If it doesn't work, I will kill both of you and your daughter on the spot."

"No!" Fred shouted. "Not Molly. You kill me. If it doesn't work, kill me, but leave Molly and leave George. This isn't their fault."

Malfoy shook his head menacingly. "I can't do that. If I only kill one of you, there are two witnesses to say I did it and I'd be… what do they say… toast."

Fred and George looked at each other uncertainly. Both knew that it was their only choice, Malfoy would never agree, but were the risks too great?

Finally, George nodded, "Fine."

Fred kicked the wall before following George out of the office, leaving Malfoy tied to the chair. Only a few seconds later, a loud crack came from the room- Malfoy was gone.


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"We can't tell anyone," Fred said, "Especially Molly."

"We have to," George replied sadly, "We can't just lead Molly to her death without telling her."

"Don't say that. Her plan will work. We'll go home, tell everyone that Malfoy agreed to help and leave it at that."

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was nowhere near as happy and cheerful as usual that day. Every product was sold with a half-hearted and miserable, "Thanks, have a nice day," instead of the normal happy greeting and laughter.

The shop closed early and the twins walked home in silence through the ice-cold rain which spat on them in disgust. They paced down the hall and into the kitchen where everyone else was gathered.

Grabbing a mug of warm tea from the counter, Fred sat down and said, "Malfoy agreed to help us."

"Oh, that's fantastic!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Ginny who'd been sitting at the end of the table glumly, scribbling madly on a piece of parchment, looked up and said sharply, "Does that mean that we can all move back home?"

"As soon as we've fixed it," Fred confirmed.

"Thank goodness. I'm sick of being stuck in here. It's so dark and gloomy."

"You could have left at any time," Fred snapped, "No one would stop you. You're only here so you don't get killed."

"I wouldn't have to be here at all if it wasn't for you," Ginny said, standing up.

"Would you rather you were dead?" Fred shouted, also jumping to is feet.

"It would be better than being stuck here with you all day!"

"Ginny, you don't mean that," Harry chided.

"Are you all stupid?" Ginny yelled. "He betrayed us! Think of all the people he could have killed!"

"Ginny, he saved most of our lives."

"He made that Vow to protect himself!" she turned on Fred, "You were too scared to die! Malfoy didn't force you to make it at all. You just couldn't think of anything to do but protect yourself. You should be ashamed to be a Weasley, ashamed to be a wizard, Fred. Everyone else fought bravely while you hid behind a stupid little Vow! And as if the Battle wasn't enough for you, now people are dying all over again. You should have stayed hidden, you should have stayed away from us because you might have survived that explosion, but you're still dead to me!"

And she stormed from the kitchen, leaving everyone staring after her in shock. The front door slammed shut.

"Fred-"

But, fuming, Fred had already run from the room after his sister. Swinging the door open, he jumped out onto the street and pulled it shut a little too forcefully. Following the retreating form of Ginny, he chased her through the streets, wind whipping him and cold biting his face. Shaking with anger and shivering with cold, Fred sprinted through London, occasionally knocking into someone and once tripping over a small Jack Russel who was out on a walk with his old owner. Breathing heavily, he began to stroll through the park towards an old bench where his sister sat, head in her hands.

"You're right," he said quietly as he sat down next to her, trying desperately to control his anger. "I was a coward, I still am. There was no way for me to know how many people I'd save or kill that day, I just made that Vow to save my skin. I'm not proud, but I'm still glad I did it. I don't think anyone would have been able to cope with half of us dead. I still should have come back sooner instead of running away, though. I should have been there for everyone. I missed so much, everyone's weddings, the kids being born. I should have been there. For George. For mum and dad. For everyone. I was stupid to think I could hide forever, that it wouldn't come back to haunt me, and then Molly got her letter and… and now everyone's dying. Sometimes, I think, would you have been safer if I stayed away, if I didn't let Molly go to Hogwarts, if I ripped up her letter and burnt it? I failed at the only important thing I had- being a brother. Now everyone's in danger again and it looks like the only way to fix it… is for me to die."

"What… what about Molly's idea?" Ginny asked without looking up.

"It's twisted, too complicated and we don't have Fawkes, Malfoy or Molly. Besides, we don't know what might happen afterwards. I might end up dead. I doubt it'll work in the first place."

"It's worth a shot though, isn't it?"

Fred shook his head, "When everyone thought I was dead, you were all safe. No one was dying, no one was ill, so if I actually die, everyone will be safe again."

"You can't be sure of that."

"We can't be sure of anything, Ginny."

"You are such a massive idiot!" Ginny shouted and Fred looked up to see tears streaming down her face, "You can't die, not again! You have to think of us too! Think of mum and dad and George and what about your Molly? You think she'll be ok without a dad?"

"She'll be safer."

"No, Fred! She needs you, we need you! You have a family!"

"Do you know something mum said to me in the summer, Ginny? She said, 'Your main duty is to yourself'."

"Exactly! You have to keep yourself alive! Look after yourself!"

"No, Ginny. I have to do what's right. My main duty is to myself- I have to do what's best for me and watching everyone die, is not what's best for me. Not when it's my fault."

"I hate you so much right now."

Leaves rustled next to Fred's feet. He snapped his head down to see a thin, one-eared fox sitting there, face wet with tears. When it saw Fred looking, the fox got up and walked away, head drooped, tail hanging between its legs.

"George-" Fred started, getting to his feet and heading after his brother, "George listen."

They had stopped underneath a tall oak tree. The fox lay with its head buried in its paws, curled up in the mud. Sighing, and ignoring the cold, wet leaves that tattered the ground, Fred sat next to the fox and tickled it behind the ears.

"George, we both know it's the only way. You knew it from the moment Molly came into the joke shop. Everyone else is going to die otherwise. It's better that it's only one person, not half the family. You got on without me for twenty years, all you have to do is pretend I never came back."

Fred reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Soon, a beautiful, silvery hyena was prancing around the park, howling. And then, the hyena wasn't the only thing to shout, the shaggy fox stood, head lifted to the sky, crying. It was an enchanting sound, full of emotion and despair. A song of grief and sorrow. The hyena had vanished; Fred was fixed by the sound of the fox. Tears began to tumble down his face, landing on the soil next to him.

"I can't live without you."

Fred hadn't even noticed that the calling had stopped, let alone that his brother had regained his human form.

"I can't. I'd rather die than live without you. Twenty years was too long. I need you; I need you to stay, Fred. Please."

"I can't stand around watching everyone else die! Not, when I know it's my fault."

"Malfoy's messing with you! He's making it up to get rid of you. We both know how much he hates our family, I bet he's laughing at us right now because you took him seriously. How do you think Molly will cope without a dad? There are so many people who are so much happier now you're here and you have to admit that you're happier too."

"You all mean so much, George, you know you do, but the only way to stop people getting kille-"

"No one's dead yet!"

"It's only a matter of time, George. And then, it'll be-"

"Like losing you all over again," George finished sadly.

"Exactly," Fred sighed, "Look, the kids all have so much life ahead of them, they haven't even finished Hogwarts yet."

"Some of them haven't started Hogwarts yet."

"You think I can take that experience away from them?"

"They'd all rather have an uncle."

"They've got plenty as it is."

Their conversation was cut short as a spine-chilling shriek split the air. Two heads snapped to look at each other, eyes wide and alert.

"Ginny," they both shouted, leaping to their feet and running back to the bench where they'd left their sister a few minutes before.

By the time they had reached the area, Ginny was lying groaning on the ground, arms and legs twisted and sticking out in every angle. Fred knelt down next to Ginny, heart beating quickly.

"What happened? Who was it?"

Ginny only groaned and shook her head weakly.

"Fred," George, said shakily, "I don't think limbs are meant to look like that."

"No kidding," Fred replied sarcastically. "Can you walk?"

Once again, all Ginny could do was shake her head.

"We need to get her out of here," Fred said urgently.

"I'll run home and get someone. You stay here and make sure no one causes a fuss or calls an ambulance."

"As soon as you're out of the way of any Muggles, disapparate."

A loud buzz of concern was beginning to erupt around the twins. People were offering to phone ambulances and panic was beginning to rise inside Fred.

"Be quick, George," he muttered at his brother's retreating back.

"Fred, I'm sorry I got so annoyed at-" she began faintly.

"Ginny, please don't do this now."

"No, I have to. I shouldn't have got so upset when I didn't understand. I should have welcomed you back, not punched you away."

"Ginny, please-" Fred looked at his sister. Tears were streaming down her pale, clammy face and Fred suddenly realised just how stupid he'd been.

Completely in shock, Fred couldn't even move until a gruff voice in his ear said, "Do you need an ambulance, mate? Is everything alright?"

Crossing his legs, Fred placed his head in his hands, whole body shaking. Hardly hearing the commotion around him, he began to breathe unnaturally quickly. Dread was setting inside him, encasing his heart, taking control of his brain.

"Fred. Are you-"

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just wish George would hurry up."

The man behind Fred was still persistently asking if they needed help; Fred knew it was only a certain amount of time before the man gave up and called an ambulance anyway. For all he knew, one could be on its way already.

"Mate, she doesn't look so good, I'll call for help, just give me a minute."

"No!" Fred shouted, looking up, "I mean, I wouldn't want to bother you."

"No, it's not a problem at all."

"You know, I think I've already done it, actually, so there's no need. Thanks anyway though."

Looking slightly taken aback, the man stepped away, phone still gripped in his hand while Fred turned back to Ginny. Despite that she was lying helpless on the ground, shivering and shaking, Ginny didn't look worried about herself. Her face was full of concern, worried eyes fixed on her pale brother.

"I'm fine, Ginny. Honestly, we just need to make sure you're ok."

Then, the strange man was hovering at Fred's shoulder again, "I've called an ambulance, mate. They'll be here soon to help."

Fred cursed under his breath but nodded curtly at the man in false appreciation.

All they could do was wait.

Soon, sirens were filling the night sky and George still hadn't returned. Fred was getting jittery- how would they explain this to a doctor? Maybe they could say she fell out of the tree, but then why would she have been in the tree to begin with? Sweat was gathering on the back of Fred's neck, even though the breeze that whipped the air was cold. The crowd around them had grown larger, with more people offering help and a few throwing coats over Ginny to try and keep her warm. The park was silent, the buzz of the city and the screech of the sirens were the only things to be heard. That was until an ear-splitting crack cut into the park. Fred and Ginny snapped their heads to look at each other.

But the sirens had stopped and the scraping sound of car doors opening and slamming shut rattled through the air. Soon, the vague outlines of three people- two ginger, one dark haired- were growing larger in the dim light which streetlamps were casting. Ginny tried to heave herself up but immediately collapsed again, crying out in pain. Fred called out to his brother.

"Hurry up, George, please!" he shouted leaping unsteadily to his feet.

The figures of George, Ron and Harry emerged from the darkness, pushing the crowd out of the way to get through.

"What took so long?"

"Mum," George replied while Harry began fussing over Ginny.

"We need to get out of here before the paramedics arrive."

"The what?" George asked. "Madamecip?"

"Paramedic, a muggle healer," Fred dismissed. "They're almost here and there's way we can come up with a believable excuse for why she has so many broken bones."

"We can't move her," Harry said, eyes fixed on his quivering wife, "It could just cause even more damage."

"What do we do?" George asked urgently as five people in fluorescent jackets entered the park.

"We could apparate," Harry suggested, but Ron didn't hesitate to dismiss the idea.

"Too many Muggles around. We're just going to have to let them take her."

The bright figures were nearly at the scene. The crowd split, forming a pathway for them to come through. Five pale faces stared at each other fretfully. How could anyone explain such a serious injury?

"Move out of the way, please. Get out the way," came the voice of a paramedic behind the crowd. "Blimey! What happened 'ere?"

"I'm not sure," George said truthfully, "We heard her scream and came over to find her like this."

"Can you remember what happened?" the paramedic asked Ginny who shook her head weakly.

"Well," he continued suspiciously, "It's quite clear that your legs and arms are broken, is there pain anywhere else?"

Ginny nodded, raised her shaking arm and pointed to her ribs. Fred, who'd been silently kneeling next to his sister, got to his feet and turned away. Without looking back, he left the park, pushing his way through people and running through the gates. The evening air was crisp and fresh and the breeze comforted Fred as he paced through the streets. Before he knew it, George was walking alongside him.

They didn't say anything, but just walked, enjoying each other's company. The moon, which was hanging low in the sky, shone on them, a spotlight in the dark sky. The streets were deserted and empty aside from the twins. The buzz of the park had been left far behind and the silence of the London suburbs was quite unnerving. Any stars that would have been visible, were blocked out by the bright lights of the city which seemed alive beneath the dead, hanging clouds.

It was hard to tell how long they walked around, aimlessly for, but when they finally reached Grimmauld Place, a sense of tension and guilt hung above Fred as well as the freezing night air. He and George pushed open the front door and headed inside. Instead of entering the kitchen, however, they both ran up the stairs and into their room where they sat on the bed silently.

"Do you reckon that one of those new spells was used to attack Ginny?" George asked, taking off his jacket and laying it on the bed.

"I guess so," Fred replied, "I don't want to think about what would have happened to her if we hadn't come when we did. She'll be alright now though."

George didn't reply immediately, he only sighed and lay back, "It's my fault. I led you away from her; I should have realised what might happen. Especially with what's been going on lately."

"We need to stop blaming ourselves," Fred said decisively. "Nothing's going to happen if we keep thinking everything's our fault. What we need now is for Fawkes to come back, and for Malfoy to turn up. Then we can properly break the Vow and end this."


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Hogwarts didn't seem quite as exciting to Molly as it had on the first of September. Everything which had once seemed interesting and amazing, now was just a death-trap, even Professor Binns' History of Magic room was lethal.

There was no way for her to know what was going on at home so every day seemed to last even longer than the previous one. Worry had consumed her completely. She couldn't focus on her lessons or understand the homework she'd been set. Therefore, one evening when James approached her in the common room on Tuesday evening, it took her a while to understand what he'd asked.

"Hey, Molly. One of our beaters seriously injured himself in training this morning and we need a backup quickly for the match on Saturday. The team was talking at dinner and we decided that you'd be our best substitute, are you up for it? Molly?"

"Oh, what? Sorry," Molly said, snapping to reality, "Yes, of course, I'll help. But," she glanced around quickly and lowered her voice, "does it not seem a bit, you know, risky?"

"We talked to Angelina and she said that she'll make sure she's always close to us and she'll also ask McGonagall to have all the staff alert with wands out, just in case. We'll meet you tomorrow evening for practice on the pitch."

"Right."

Now, even more anxiety was filling Molly's heart. As well worrying about her family at home, she now had to make sure she helped Gryffindor win a Quidditch match and not die. After only ever playing the sport once, this seemed impossible. Surely someone else could play?

But James had asked her. The team wanted her to play.

No matter how hard she tried, Molly couldn't take her mind off the coming match. She'd written to her dad to ask if he could send her broomstick back for the match. The school's brooms were slow and difficult to control, as Molly found out at her training session on Wednesday evening.

The wind blew Molly off course and because the brooms were so weak, it proved difficult to make any progress. The rest of the team had to adjust to their new player and with only a few days until the match, it was beginning to seem as though Gryffindor were doomed.

Saturday loomed nearer, casting a shadow of excitement over the school. It was the last match of the year, and if Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, they'd win the Quidditch Cup for their house. It was all anyone talked about. Every house was betting on who would win. Everyone approached the team in the corridors to wish them luck and the school was alive with buzzing excitement but for Molly, Hogwarts was no longer the paradise it used to be. It was completely the opposite.

Molly wished she could stay tucked up in bed forever on Saturday morning. Although the sun shone brightly, the trees in the Forbidden Forest were being battered by an invisible wind.

By the time she had changed into her robes and arrived at breakfast, the rest of the Gryffindor team were already sitting there nervously, talking quietly. Molly joined them and James pushed a plate of toast towards her.

"Are you alright?" he asked kindly.

Molly nodded, "For now."

"Training has been great, we have a fab team," Douglas Gray, the Quidditch captain encouraged. "Of course, Darren being injured is extremely inconvenient but, Molly's pretty good and-"

"Douglas," James interrupted, getting up to leave, "that's not helpful. We'll all be amazing."

They entered the changing rooms and sat on the benches while Douglas gave his best attempt to motivate the team.

"We can probably do this if we really try. I mean, Ravenclaw is a good team and because of a… major setback… we aren't as strong as we were, but that doesn't mean we can't do it. It'll just be hard. Conditions aren't really that great, but I think we've practiced in worse so we should be able to cope. Molly, if you stick around Mark and James so they can focus without worrying about bludgers. I'll watch the chasers and keep bludgers away from them. Hopefully, that should mean everyone can concentrate on scoring and defending and that might give us a chance."

Feeling rather un-motivated, Molly followed everyone out the changing room, gripping her broom tightly in one hand and her bat in the other. The school roared loudly as they marched out and stood in the centre of the pitch. There was another cry as the Ravenclaw team joined the Gryffindors.

"Captains, shake hands," Angelina instructed.

Douglas Gray stepped forward, arm outstretched to shake hands with the Ravenclaw team captain.

"Mount your brooms. Now, play cleanly and carefully. I don't want any injuries," she said while the players soared into the air.

Angelina blew her whistle and threw the quaffle upwards. It didn't take long for Molly to lose any idea of what was going on. With the crowds screaming loudly players flying everywhere, it was hard to keep track of where the ground was, let alone a tiny bludger. Icy winds whipped at her skin, making it difficult to keep hold of her broom.

Thankfully, she managed to both stay on her broom and keep the bludgers away, hitting them towards Ravenclaw players several times. A few minutes in, and one of Ravenclaw's players had already been knocked to the ground when a bludger smacked them in the shoulder after Molly hit it away from James. The team's strategy was to keep their seeker, Mark Fielding, out of the way at the hoops next to James with Molly protecting the both of them. This meant that Mark would have a clear view of the entire pitch and wouldn't have to worry about other players getting in the way.

As the scores crept higher and higher and Ravenclaw began to take a strong lead, a dash of golden light caught Molly's eye.

"Mark!" she yelled, pointing towards the tiny light and then whacking away a bludger and knocking a Ravenclaw player from their broom.

She turned to look at Mark but he'd already dashed towards the snitch which was dancing a few metres below James.

 _Clunk._

A hard, solid force collided with the back of Molly's head. Yelling out in pain, she dropped her bat and struggled to stay on her broom. A loud roar from the crowds below told her that someone had caught the snitch and ended the match, but her vision was now blurry and dotted so she couldn't make out who it was.

Wind whistled in her ears. She was falling and there wasn't anything she could do. She no longer had hold of her broom; her hands clasped only the air. Cries of celebration turned to gasps of horror underneath her and before she knew it, two pairs of hands had grabbed her and were steadying her in mid-air.

"Molly! Molly, are you alright?" came Angelina's worried voice.

Molly nodded weakly, "Who… who won?"

"I knew I shouldn't have let you play."

"It isn't your fault," James' voice said, "It was my idea to put her on the team, I should have got someone else."

"S'neither of your faults," Molly muttered. "I agreed to play. Who won?"

"Us, Molly. We won," James replied although his voice was distracted and uneasy, not happy and relieved.

Molly's feet hit solid ground, a strange feeling after flying for so long and if Angelina and James hadn't been supporting most of her weight, she would have collapsed where she was. Without the cooperation of her legs, Molly was half carried, half dragged into the school, up several sets of stairs and into the hospital wing.

Everything seemed to be happening in blurry slow motion for Molly. It was difficult to process what anyone was saying as her brain only made sense of anything about a minute too late. Several pairs of footsteps filled the room, followed by a few familiar voices.

"Is she alright? What happened?" Professor McGonagall's voice shot into the room.

"I'm… I'm fine… absolutely-"

Molly fell onto a bed and was engulfed in darkness and silence.

"This is getting out of hand."

"There isn't anywhere safe anymore."

"We just need to find Fawkes and we can sort everything out."

Molly's eyes snapped open at the sound of her father's voice.

"Dad," she breathed, sitting up. "What's going on?" Molly asked, looking around at the five faces surrounding her.

"At least we know _you're_ alright," Angelina said, as positively as she could, despite the glum faces around her.

"Why wouldn't I be? What's happened?" Molly demanded and then something hit her. "Wait, no one's… everyone's… they're all… no one's…?"

"No one's dead," George paused, "Yet."

"Who?"

"Mum," James said glumly, "and Grandad."

"What? How?"

"Ginny got attacked when we were in the park, Muggle healers have taken her to a hospital," George explained.

"We'd barely been home half an hour when there was a loud crash. We both ran to find out what had happened and dad was lying at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding and broken. It was horrible."

"Roxy's got a cold which currently, I know doesn't seem like much, but I'm pretty sure it's going to get a lot worse."

"We need to find Fawkes, and quickly."

"Well, we only have an entire planet to search," George said.

"Surely he can't have gone that far."

Suddenly, an incredible thought struck Molly. She leapt out of the bed and grabbed her father's arm, pulling him out his seat and out of the hospital wing.

"You said that Fawkes belonged to Dumbledore, yes?" she asked as they ran through the corridors.

"Well, yes, but-" Fred paused, "Oh."

And then, it was Fred pulling his daughter through the Hogwarts passages until they stood panting in front of a majestic stone gargoyle with a hideous face. Fred knew exactly where he was going- he'd been sent to see Professor Dumbledore multiple times during his time at Hogwarts in the hope that the headmaster would set he and George on the right path and away from trouble making. Professor Dumbledore, however, ended up laughing at the pranks that the twins had pulled and visits to his office became more of an honour. The gargoyle hopped away as Fred and Molly approached, revealing a tall, spiral staircase which was caked in darkness. Fred took out his wand, muttered, " _Lumos,"_ and began to climb the stairs, led by the light which he held.

A towering wooden door, engraved with floral patterns stood at the top of the staircase. Slowly, Fred placed his hand on the golden handle and pushed open the door. Golden light illuminated the office. A large desk stood proudly at the end of the circular room, two large portraits hanging above it. Cases full of mysterious objects, books and instruments were dotted around the room. The walls were covered in smaller portraits, like the two above the desk, each containing a painting of an old Hogwarts head teacher.

Molly, however, wasn't looking at any of the contraptions or even the portraits- her eyes were fixed on a beautiful bird, the colour of an Autumn sunset, which was cooing softly in the corner of the room.

A smirk broke out on Fred's face as he walked across the room towards the phoenix. He placed his wand in his pocket and carefully outstretched his arm. Fawkes sat up straighter on his perch, spread out his magnificent wings and soared over to land gracefully on Fred's wrist.

"And so, I see, the adventure still is not over," said a soft voice from the other side of the room.

Lifting his head, Fred turned around to see the painting of Albus Dumbledore smiling down on him.

"It seems that even though you're dead, you still manage to live life in a more exciting way than most, Mr Weasley."

"I've faced a lot scarier things than death."

"Oh yes?"

"Detention. Mum. Professor McGonagall. Ron in the mornings."

Dumbledore's portrait chuckled, "And yet you still have the same sense of humour. I do miss your little jokes."

"So do I."

"Strange, how much we have in common," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Both powerful, powerful wizards, both remembered lovingly, both eager to do the right thing for other people. However, we both had a moment of cowardice which had devastating results. And yet, you have the chance to undo your mistake while I… I must leave mine as they are."

"Sir, how do you know about all of this? About what's going on?"

"Let us just say that Fawkes is not just a handsome bird. He has his uses."

"Do you know if-" Molly started.

"your plan will work?" Dumbledore presumed, "I'm afraid, I do not. I must say, it is an extremely good idea, but I do not know if it will work."

"But is it-"

"It is definitely worth trying. I cannot think of anything serious that would-"

"I can," Fred said quietly. "In order to get Lucius Malfoy to agree to help us, George and I had to make a deal with him."

"A deal? What sort of deal?"

"If… if Molly's plan doesn't work… he's going to…" Fred sighed, it was strange how interesting the floor had now become. "Molly, if your plan doesn't work, Malfoy's going to kill me, George… and you."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. As long as you die first Mr. Weasley, your brother and young Molly will be perfectly safe."

"But the Vow, it was made around the war, if we-"

"Incorrect. You made your Vow around _a_ war. Not _the_ war. The war which you and Lucius Malfoy made your Vow around is not the same war which the Order of the Phoenix was fighting for. While you and Lucius remain alive, there is still a battle to be fought. Twenty years ago, you fought in two fights. In fact, a war still rages on between you. There is a difference between dying in the Battle of Hogwarts and dying in the battle in Hogwarts."

"That's why no one has died!"

"Indeed."

"So do I have to make a truce with Malfoy? How do I end the war?"

"I fear that a truce will not truly end the war that rages between the two of you. The hatred of Lucius Malfoy that you have had since you were young, is now too strong."

"So we have to duel," Fred guessed.

"You must duel, and one must die. It is the only way."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly at Fred who took Molly's hand and turned to leave the office. Their footsteps echoed around the room and led them down the stairs. Dumbledore's voice, a mere whisper, was barely audible.

"The battle is not over until nobody is left to fight."

Fred and Molly ran through the Hogwarts corridors back to the hospital wing. Triumphantly, they strode into the room, but their confidence was soon shot into a million tiny pieces. Supported by George and Angelina, James was coughing and spluttering. When he looked up, tiny streams of blood were dribbling down his chin and his face was deathly pale. He stumbled over to the nearest bed while Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office, swiftly followed by Professor McGonagall. Angelina ran from the hospital wing to find Rose and Albus.

Fred turned back to James who was shaking so violently, George had to hold him down to stop him falling off the bed.

"That's five attacks in two days," Fred said solemnly, watching Angelina leave. "It's getting worse."

"We need everyone here," Fred said thoughtfully, "To know they're all safe."

"I'll send Pepper to Grimmauld place," Molly suggested.

"Take… take Mercury… he'll go to… to Shell Cottage," James spluttered.

"Would owls not be too slow? It could take them a day to get there."

McGonagall removed her wand from her robe pocket and with a quick swish, four silvery cats sprung from the end and leapt out the window.

"They'll send the messages out and make sure everyone gets here relatively quickly."

"Louis and Dominique will have to come from school. In France," George pointed out.

"Yes, well, that might take a while but at least we know they'll get here."

"At least we can hope, more like," Fred muttered under his breath as James began coughing again.

Nose turned up in disgust, Fred steered away from the bed and sat on the other side of the room. Now, not only were the attacks coming more frequently, but they were also becoming gradually more serious. Listening to James cough and splutter so gruesomely, Fred could feel nothing but heavy guilt. A feeling which had lived inside him for too long. A feeling which needed to go.

Throughout the day, more and more of the family rolled in. Harry, Mrs Weasley, Lily and Ginny arrived first, Ginny being wheeled along as her arms, legs and waist were wrapped in bandages. When Harry's green eyes fell on his son, his face blanched and he ran across the room to help. Bursting into tears, Lily buried herself in her grandma's robes, trembling.

Adults who weren't effected ran around caring for those who were. Everyone was busy.

Everyone but Fred.

Fred who was sitting all alone in the corner, comforted only by the soft breeze from the window next to him. Fred who's been through so much just to watch his family dying. Fred whose head was buzzing with a million thoughts, all of which were horrible. The gruesome scenes that surrounded him, the suffering and despair, it was enough to drive anyone to insanity. He didn't even glance up when his father hobbled into the room, crooked and broken. Or when his brothers, nephews and nieces ran in, some crying, some pale and ill, others just anxious and worried. He simply stared out the window across the grounds on which he used to run.

It was a crisp day, fresh and cool, in spite of the misery that lay within the castle walls. The sun shone, almost coolly, setting a hard light over the Forbidden Forest. Students mingled by the lake or laughed in small groups together. Hagrid chased pupils away from the forest edge, and Fred smiled, remembering how it used to be him that would try to adventure into the woods with George. But now, stepping into the forest was as about as thrilling as watching grass grow. There was no excitement, no rebelliousness, nothing special about it. Fred could take a stroll through the Forbidden Forest like he could take a stroll down Diagon Alley.

When George finally joined his brother, Fred was resting his head against the window, still staring into the horizon. George sat on the bed next to him silently.

"How is everyone?" Fred asked, without lifting his head.

"Brilliant. Absolutely," George sighed. "awful."

He ran his hand through his ginger hair. "We need to sort this out, mate."

"No," Fred replied sharply, " _I_ need to sort this out. It's _my_ fault, it's _my_ responsibility."

"Yeah, but you can't do it alone, can you? You're not a superhero."

"If I were a superhero, the world would have ended when I was about three. I'm useless."

"You helped invent some of the most popular products in Britain, run a famous joke shop, are my brother and helped fight in a war against the darkest wizard of all time, and think you're useless?"

"Well, when you put it like that," Fred laughed, "I could be a superhero, and a pretty good one."

"Fred Weasley, saving the Earth with pranks and bad jokes."

"But seriously, I'm the only one who can fix it. And it has to be soon, preferably tonight."

"It can't be tonight, we need to find Malfoy first. Send him an owl, telling to meet you in a certain place, at a certain time to fix it. There's no point rushing about tonight."

Immediately, Fred got up, grabbed a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink and returned to his seat.

"Ok, so you're writing it now," George said in exasperation.

"Yes, I'm writing it now. I want this over." Fred didn't bother explaining to George about the new plan as he began to scribble out the letter. His quill danced furiously across the parchment as Fred hurried to write his letter.

"Molly!" he shouted across the room. "Can I borrow Pepper?"

"Yes, of course. Would you like me to get her?"

"No, don't worry. I'll go, it'll be nice to go around the castle again." He turned to George, "Coming?"

"Of course."

Walking through Hogwarts again filled Fred with joy. Twenty years ago, he'd been convinced that he'd never be able to even see the magnificent castle again. But, now, everything had been turned on its head and seemed almost normal.

"It wouldn't be right to come back to Hogwarts and not have a bit of fun, would it?" George said suddenly, ignoring the peculiar looks they earned from some first-year students.

"Do you think I asked you to come because I enjoy your company?" Fred replied cheekily, "Why do you think I wanted to take the letter all the way to the owlery when I could have just let Molly do it?"

Fred put his hand into his pocket and produced a small pyramid shaped box with a few leaves poking out the top of it.

"Is that a-"

Fred nodded, "Yep."

"And you're going to-"

"Yep."

"In the same place?"

"Yep."

"Let's do it."

There was no longer a fear of being caught for the twins. Pulling pranks was a safe, easy thing to do now, there was no danger. But that didn't stop them. The twins lived to see people's reactions at their jokes and pranks, they had an entire shop to do just that. Running through the stone corridors of Hogwarts was still just as fun as it had been two decades ago. The school was exactly the same as Fred remembered it, it was as though nothing in the magic word had changed at all. Every portrait was hung in the same place, every passage and tunnel exactly the same.

Soon, Fred and George stood outside a small office door. Carefully, Fred placed the small pyramid on the floor and tapped the tip with his wand. The box began to grow and slowly opened outwards. Leaves sprouted from the base, expanding across the corridor. Mud and damp grass wound up from the ground, gnarled trees swaying along the walls and hanging down from the ceiling. Logs and broken branches were strewn across the floor and a large, murky lake had extended to life in the middle of the corridor. Within a minute, the twins had created an extremely realistic swamp in the middle of their old school.

Grinning broadly, they began to run again; they didn't need to stay for someone to recognise their work. Their first Portable Swamp had gone down in Hogwarts history when they were in their seventh year.

They didn't stop running until they reached the owlery, both still beaming. Fred called Pepper down and they watched as the beautiful Boreal owl swooped down from high up in the tower. She landed gracefully on the window ledge in front of the twins, cooing affectionately. Taking a step forward, Fred stretched his arm out and stroked Pepper gently.

"Find Malfoy. Find Malfoy and give him this and make sure he agrees," Fred told the owl, tickling her under the chin and tying the letter to her leg.

After an affectionate nip on Fred's finger, Pepper soared out the window and off high above the trees.

"She'd better find him," George muttered.

"She will. Don't worry, she will."

Chaos had completely covered the castle. Students were all running to the third-floor corridor in order to catch a glimpse of the swamp. Teachers ran about, flustered but also with a small smile on their faces. Everyone who caught a glimpse of the twins immediately began chatting excitedly with their friends but Fred and George sped through the corridors until they were stopped by two Gryffindor students.

"Is Molly alright?" one of them, a girl with dark auburn hair asked urgently.

"Where is she, can we see her?" the other, a boy with light, fair hair and a cheeky, mischievous face demanded.

Slightly taken aback, Fred replied, "Molly's fine, but erm, who are you?"

"We're Molly's friends, Rosie Starke and Matt Carpenter," the girl, Rosie, replied. "Can we see her?"

Fred sighed in relief; Molly had told him about Rosie and Matt in letters. He shared a look with his brother who shrugged, "I don't see why not."

"I mean, you can come but don't you have lessons?"

"We're meant to have Defence Against the Dark Arts but it got cancelled because Professor Lupin is busy doing something important," Rosie replied, clearly unimpressed by the lack of teacher.

"Oh, that's because he's in the hospital wing with us," George said.

"The hospital wing?" Matt repeated as they began to march through the corridors. "Why the hospital wing? Is everyone alright?"

"That's debatable," George said, completely absent minded.

Matt ran to keep up with the twins, "Nice swamp, by the way, it's awesome."

"Thanks. We thought we'd cause a bit of excitement while we were here," George mumbled.

The rest of the walk to the hospital wing was silent. Their footsteps echoed around the otherwise soundless halls. The quiet was peaceful, calming, a nice feeling before the chaos that they were about to walk into.

Fred pushed open the door to the hospital wing and stepped inside, George, Rosie and Matt following close behind. The second Molly saw her friends, she leapt to her feet and ran across the room, tackling them both with a hug. The elation that had filled the twins a few moments ago had completely dissolved. James was still coughing horribly, blood staining his chin and shirt and thrashing around in pain. Roxanne was huddled in Angelina's arms, pale with sunken eyes and dry lips and shaking slightly as though stuck in a snowstorm. Although she was trying desperately to be strong and get up, Ginny was lying on the bed, still wrapped in bandages and slightly green in the face. An angry red rash was covering most of Bill's handsome face, a severe allergic reaction to a Billywig sting which he received on the way to Hogwarts.

About half an hour later, at mid-day, a large, towering figure appeared in the doorway to the hospital wing, carrying a huge tray stacked with food and a massive flagon of pumpkin juice.

"I thought yeh'd all like some lunch," said the gruff voice of Hagrid as he took a step into the room. "Yeh've all bin in here all day without no food an' I thought yeh'd be hungry."

He placed the tray on the nearest table and soon everyone was happily munching on pasties and sandwiches.

"Is there anythin' else I can get fer yeh?" Hagrid offered, looking around the room at everyone with concern.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, "I will come down with you to the Great Hall. I would like you to find Professors Flitwick, Slughorn and Longbottom and bring them up here. I shall cancel the student's lessons." She turned to Matt and Rosie, "You may stay here or return to your common room with the rest of your house to study and do homework."

"We'll stay here and help," Matt replied quickly.

"If I get back and I here you haven't been helping Mr. Carpenter, you will wish that you stayed at home this year," Professor McGonagall told Matt sharply as she and Hagrid left.

"I sent an owl to Malfoy," Fred said into his sandwich. "One way or another, this will all be over soon."

"One way or another?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Only that it'll get done. It's just a saying."

It suddenly dawned on Fred that he hadn't told anyone about what Dumbledore had said. So, as soon as everyone had finished eating, he began to explain. By the time he had finished, Professor McGonagall had returned and was standing in the doorway, looking just as shocked as everyone else.

"We've all had it wrong this whole time!" George exclaimed. "Even Malfoy's stupid guards!"

"Lucius Malfoy has hated our family for many, many years. He will not play fairly Fred, not at all. He will bring back old Death Eaters who have had their names cleared. Malfoy will do anything if it means he can see the Weasley family die."

"That's stupid."

"That's the Malfoy family," Mr. Weasley said.

Albus suddenly stood up angrily and marched across the room to sit in the corner by himself. Fred stared after him quizzically.

"It's a long story," Harry said, shaking his head, in exasperation. "Don't ask."

"So who's going to go and fight?"

"Me," George said immediately. "I'm not letting you have all the fun."

"Never could let me have one moment for myself, could you?" Fred said cheekily. "You always needed some of the glory."

"Oh at least half," George replied, grinning, "That's what twins are for. Is that alright?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, mate."

Looking as though she was about to burst into tears, Mrs. Weasley put a hand to her mouth, her eyes smiling and twinkling.

After a quick discussion, it was decided that Lee, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Teddy, Angelina and Professor McGonagall would accompany Fred and George to find Malfoy.

When Hagrid finally reappeared with Neville and Professors Slughorn and Flitwick, the empty plates and glasses were stacked neatly on the tray.

"Ah good. We need all the help we can get," Professor McGonagall fussed. "Help and do everything you can."

For the rest of the afternoon, the Hogwarts Professors moved around the room, trying their best to cure incurable illnesses. The sun had long ago been consumed by the horizon when anyone even thought about going to bed. But very late at night, Professor McGonagall could be seen marching Matt and Rosie through the Hogwarts corridors and back to the Gryffindor common room. The other teachers left the hospital wing and Hagrid tromped down to his hut.

Everyone else found a spare bed and tucked themselves up. It was difficult to sleep, with all the coughing and groaning that surrounded them. Fred lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling as though in a trance. Nothing could remove the bubbling sense of joy that had filled him when he first entered the castle with his brother, his insides were still buzzing with excitement. Walking around Hogwarts castle, the same castle he'd walked around so long ago, seemed almost to be a miracle after so long.

Full of delightful memories and heart-warming thoughts, Fred's head finally fell back against the pillows and immediately, he fell asleep.


	32. Chapter 31

Author's Note

So I know the people who left these reviews probably won't still be reading this story (which is fine obviously of they don't like it) and won't see this but I thought I'd clear it up anyway. So the vault Fred took money from in Gringotts was a joint account from the joke shop which is still up and running- Fred's own account as you correctly pointed out, would have been closed. And the person who kept poking holes in my story, I'd just like to say that this is my first fic, I'm only 14 and I think (hope) most of the holes are cleared up at the end. I agree that the story isn't brilliantly written but I'm still getting used to it. I'm also sorry you don't agree with my interpretation of the characters or my own characters, and yes it's unplanned, I was writing it for fun. (none of that paragraph was meant to be salty or rude, I'm just trying to clear it all up)

Referring to what I asked a few chapters back about a follow up story, so far most people have said they'd like option three but personally, that's my least favourite, as it would involve a sad George. Therefore, I'm going to wait a bit longer, see of anyone else has an opinion, then decide (I'd still be happy to write option three)

Chapter 31

It was eerie: the silence in the room. After a whole day of listening to the buzz of the hospital wing, lying there while it was completely silent was creepy, unsettling. It wasn't right, she couldn't even hear anyone breathing. Nothing should be this quiet. Molly shivered and threw back the bed covers. The rustling sound they made was as loud as a thunderstorm. Louder, even.

She didn't know what time it was, but a weak ray of light was trying to shine into the room through the curtains. Molly wished someone else would wake up and break the horrible feeling which had taken over the room. It was as though they were all dead.

The whole castle was sleeping. Molly could have walked all the way around it only hearing her own footsteps and steady heartbeat. Every common room, classroom and dormitory was completely still. Of course, in only a few hours' time, that would be completely different. Hogwarts would be alive and thriving. But for now, Molly couldn't shake the uncomfortable weight that sat on her chest. Breathing felt strange. It was all she could hear and as natural and normal as it was, breathing still seemed to be a crime. The morning was cool, but as Molly pulled back the curtain and peered outside, there was no breeze and no clouds. The sky was as empty of life as the slumbering school and even though the sun was popping up weakly behind the Forbidden Forest, the light it cast was icy.

Molly completely lost track of time. She had no idea how long she stood at the window, simply staring outwards, but when a voice finally cut through the silence, the sun's light was illuminating the entirety of the beautiful grounds of Hogwarts.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" George's words seemed to awaken the world.

Molly suddenly could hear the tweeting of birds outside and finally noticed the soft clouds floating above her. She nodded. "Is it different? The school? Is it different to when you were here?"

"Exactly the same. I think that makes it feel like I never left. Being able to come back to exactly the same school with your dad. I never thought I'd be able to do that again. For twenty years, I'd thought of the school as my… as our second home. And then for twenty years it was just an unfriendly reminder of what had happened. To be honest, while Fred, my Fred, and Roxanne were growing up, I feared them getting their letters. I didn't want it to happen. In a way, I still don't."

Molly frowned, "Why?"

"I'm scared Roxy will lose her brother in the same place I lost mine," he laughed, "I know it's ridiculous. Hogwarts is safe, and I know it. But that doesn't make the past any less real. Fred will get his letter this summer and Roxy the summer after and there isn't anything I can do to stop them going, especially now they've seen the castle for themselves."

"They will be safe here. Both of them. Once all this is over, and everyone's got better, we'll forget it ever happened. We'll be able to get on like a family again."

"Again?"

"Well, you know. We've all imagined it."

"Too right we have," George laughed. "I just hope dreams can come true."

"Of course they can," said a new voice.

Molly turned to see her grandma standing there, a thin smile on her dry lips. "Not even in my worst nightmares did I imagine you and your brother being split up."

Molly suddenly felt as though she was eavesdropping on a private conversation

Nevertheless, Mrs. Weasley continued as if Molly was only a fly on the wall. "I thought the two of you were inseparable. But then something I never thought could happen… happened. So all I dreamed of since, was seeing the two of you back together. I never thought I'd miss your jokes. Never thought I'd want you to pull a prank. Strange how quickly things can change."

George wrapped his mother in a hug, making Molly feel even more out of place than she did before. Awkwardly, she slipped away and went to sit next to Rose, Dominique and Lucy, all of whom had woken up and were huddled together on Rose's bed. It wasn't long before Lucy's sister, Molly, joined them, swiftly followed by Roxanne, who still looked weak and exhausted, and Lily.

The girls sat together all morning, chatting and laughing and trying their best to ignore the fact they were sitting in a hospital with their dying relatives.

At about mid-day, Professor McGonagall returned with Neville and Hagrid, a tray stacked with food floating next to them. Everyone was awake, sitting in small huddles or looking after each other's sicknesses. Even so, they swarmed together over the food. As they had had no breakfast, everyone was starving and had no mercy for their lunch. Within minutes they'd devoured every crumb of food and every droplet of pumpkin juice.

"I trust you will be removing your, shall we say, decoration?" McGonagall asked the twins pointedly.

"Oh, that," George said, placing down his sandwich as though he'd forgotten about the creation of his swamp. "I don't see why we should. You managed to get rid of the previous one. Surely you can remember how to remove it."

"Yes, well, at least the first time we had a reason for keeping it there."

"I'm sure if you tried hard enough you could think of a reason to keep this one," George pointed out. "It's a work of art."

"It has been especially difficult to remove your ' _art_ ' with a poltergeist swooping around acting as though he's part of the royal guard."

"Excuse me?"

"Peeves has decided that it would be the highest of insults if we disposed of your swamp. He's making it impossible to even walk down the corridor," McGonagall snapped.

"Not anymore," a voice echoed around the room.

Everyone looked up just in time to see a colourful, floating blob zoom into the hospital wing. Everyone sighed. Everyone except Fred and George who's mouths grew into broad grins. Peeves stopped abruptly in front of the twins and bowed deeply.

"Alright, Peeves?" George beamed. "I hope you've been causing sufficient amounts of trouble for us."

"I like to keep everyone on their toes."

"You've been known to keep people in mid-air, not just on their toes," Professor McGonagall muttered angrily.

"What can I say? Sometimes things need to be a bit more exciting, it makes everything a bit riskier."

Professor McGonagall sighed, "Peeves-"

"I can go and cause havoc somewhere else if you'd prefer."

"No… erm… yes… I mean… oh, just get out!"

"Certainly," with a wink at the twins and another bow, Peeves zoomed out the room.

"Well, that was… nice," Harry said sarcastically, watching the poltergeist leave.

"I just hope that gave everyone else the chance to remove your swamp," McGonagall said, eyebrows raised.

"I doubt it," George muttered.

 _Caw._

Everyone's eyes snapped to the window where a small, fluffy owl with brown and grey speckled plumage sat.

"Pepper!" Molly exclaimed, jumping to her feet and hurrying to the window ledge.

The owl gracefully jumped onto Molly's shoulder and stuck out her leg. A small letter was tied tightly to it, folded over and over. Carefully, Molly slipped the note off Pepper's leg, stroked her owl which had leapt back to the window ledge and stepped back towards everyone else. She held it out towards her dad, who took it cautiously as though it might explode.

"It isn't a bomb, mate," George said.

Fred tried for a smile, but his hands were shaking nervously as he unfolded the parchment. No one spoke as Fred's eyes scanned over the letter. His face blanched and the paper shook in his quivering grip.

"What did he say?"

"He said he'll help."

George cheered, "What's the matter then?"

"He said he's going to bring ten others with him and I have to bring ten people with me. One of his men will duel one of ours. If six or more of us win our duel, then we've won, but if six or more of them win their duels, they've won," Fred explained.

"What if five of ours and five of theirs win?" Harry asked.

"Malfoy and I duel to end it."

"The little coward!" Ginny shouted, "He just doesn't want to do any fighting himself."

"That's not the worst of it," Fred said quietly. "For the battle to properly end, Dumbledore said that either Malfoy has to die, or I have to die. But Malfoy's decided that whichever side wins, they get to kill all of the other team."

"All of them?"

Fred nodded grimly, "Everyone."

"I warned you that Malfoy would do everything it takes to see the end of us," Mr. Weasley said.

"Come on, we can beat them easily," said George, "We did it before."

"This is different," Fred said. "We need a plan."

"And an extra person," Harry said.

"I'll go," a small, quiet voice said.

Neville Longbottom had been so quiet, most people had forgotten he was even there, "I want to come. I'll help."

Fred looked up uncertainly but everyone else was smiling so he shrugged and continued to study the letter.

All of a sudden, Molly leapt to her feet. An idea blooming in her head.

"We need another person!" she exclaimed.

"No, Mol. We don't," Fred said, "George, Lee, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Neville, Professor McGonagall, Teddy and Angelina make ten, plus me is eleven. We have the right amount."

"No, I have an idea," Molly said excitedly. "We need someone else who's prepared to duel instead of Uncle George."

"What?" George demanded angrily, "I'm still coming! I'll help!"

"You still will. But you'll turn up either before or after everyone else as a fox. With any luck, no one will recognise you so if anything awful happens, you can step in as backup and help."

"Great. Good idea, Mol," Fred said quietly. "But we still need someone else."

"I'll come," Charlie volunteered. "I'm not amazing at duelling but if no one else will then I'm more than willing to come. I just hope I don't lose this for you."

"Don't you worry, you'll be just fine," Mrs. Weasley said confidently. "You'll _all_ be just fine."

"We all have to be ready to leave at about mid-day tomorrow," Fred said shakily.

"Where are we going?"

"I told Malfoy I'd meet him at half-twelve at the same place the Quidditch World Cup was held. We both know where it is and it's out in the country so it'll be quiet. Hopefully there won't be any Muggles around."

Without another word, Fred got to his feet and, leaving the letter on the bed, walked across the room to sit by the window. Everyone stared after him sympathetically but no one followed.

"I wish someone would tell a joke," James wheezed. "I'm bored."

Everyone looked to George, but he only shook his head and walked after Fred.

"Ok guys, I've got one," Ron said sitting forward excitedly, "I was standing in the park, wondering why a Fanged Frisbee got bigger the closer it got." He paused, "And then it hit me."

Unimpressed and unamused, most people got up and walked away, despite Ron's best attempts to lighten the mood, leaving him sitting quite disheartened by himself.

"You tried, mate," Harry said, patting him on the shoulder as he passed, "You tried."

"Come on, that was good!" Ron protested, but everyone was sitting in small groups around the room again, completely ignoring him.

Leaving the rest of the girls, Molly had joined her father and uncle, sitting between them on the far bed.

"That was a good idea, Molly," George said.

Molly smiled, "Malfoy doesn't know, does he? That you can turn into a fox."

"I don't think so. He might have worked it out after that whole thing on the island when we took Fawkes, but I don't know."

"Who were the people on that island?"

"I think they're old Death Eaters who either got let off or have served their time in Azkaban but again, there's no way of knowing really," George replied.

"Will it be them who come to the duels?" Molly asked.

"I expect so. I don't know what Malfoy's going to do, but he'll have a plan, and it won't be fair. We all have to be expecting that. They'll probably use those weird spells too; we don't know how to block them."

"How will we know if you're all safe?"

"You won't," Fred sighed. "That's the problem. You won't know if we're ok, and we won't know if you are."

"That's horrible."

Fred nodded, "But at least all of this will be over. No one will have to worry about it anymore."

"You will win. You have to," Molly turned to George, "You and Auntie Angelina are both going, you have to come back. For Roxy and Fred. And then there's Hugo and Rose, they need Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron. And if… if you don't win and… and… who will run the joke shop? Who'll be Herbology professor? Who'll be Minister for Magic? It's more than just the family that need you."

"Of course we're going to win," George said, "We're not about to let the rest of the family die. We've fought Malfoy before, we can do it again."

"If he was fighting fairly, we'd easily beat him. But he'll cheat. It's like dad said, he'd do anything to see the end of us," Fred said worriedly.

The three of them fell silent, but soon leapt to their feet when James suddenly began coughing and collapsed on the floor, shivering. Harry and Fred rushed forward and heaved him up and onto a bed while George ran to fetch Madam Pomfrey. Albus who'd been sulking in the corner by himself glanced up with concern to watch.

"George, hurry up!" Fred called urgently while hauling onto the bed.

Harry's face was pale, white with concern. His eyes were wide and unfocused and his movements were sluggish. He was too shocked to concentrate on what was happening.

"Harry! Earth to Harry!" Fred said, waving his hand in front of Harry's face and clicking his fingers, "Come on, mate, snap out of it. We need your help."

"Oh yeah, right," Harry said shaking his head and blinking. "Ok. It's just-"

"Not now, Harry."

"Ok, sorry," Harry rubbed his eyes and turned back to his son whose lips were tinted blue and whose skin was a pale, sickly green. "Come on, James."

Ginny, still wrapped in bandage, peered over from her bed anxiously. "Is he alright?"

"Ginny, be real. Does he look alright?" Harry snapped.

"Well, no but-"

"Harry, just calm down, ok? James will be fine, but you getting worked up about it won't help. You need to chill."

"That's surprisingly difficult when you're watching your son die, right in front of you!"

"He's not going to die!" Fred insisted. "George! Will you hurry up!"

"Ok! I'm here."

"What took so long? Where's Madam Pomfrey?"

"She's not there. The office is empty."

"I bet it was Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I swear, when I see him tomorrow-"

"Harry," Fred warned, "that's not helpful."

"What do we do?" George asked.

Fred turned to peer over his shoulder, "Molly! Run down to the dungeons with Rose and fetch Professor Slughorn, please! Quickly!"

Neither Rose or Molly stopped running until they had reached Professor Slughorn's classroom at the bottom of the castle. They took the stairs three at a time, leaping down each set and landing on the hard, stone floor just to start running again.

Completely out of breath, the two girls stood at the potion master's door, heart's beating so fast, it was as though they were about to burst out of them. Molly raised her hand, knocked twice and pushed the heavy door open. She took a step forward but soon froze when she realised who it was that Professor Slughorn was teaching.

"Molly, are you ok?" Rose asked, voice tinted with worry.

"Yeah. I'm fine it's just, this is my class. They don't know who my dad is. They can't know, I can't let them find out they'll never stop talking about it. Especially after the Daily Prophet reports."

"Molly! Think of James. He needs you to help him. Ignore everyone else," she took Molly's hand and dragged her into the classroom until they stood in front of Professor Slughorn. "Sir, we need your help."

"Rose, my dear girl! Can't it wait? I have a class."

"No, sir. It can't wait," Rose said, "We need you upstairs in the hospital wing."

Molly's jaw clenched. She was trying desperately hard to ignore the whisperings of her class behind her, but she could hear Rosie's concerned voice as she whispered to Matt. The temptation to turn around and talk to them, to tell them what had happened was almost impossible to resist.

"Well, whatever's the matter?" Professor Slughorn asked, placing down the phial of newt's tails that he was holding.

"James is ill, really ill," Rose began.

"James Potter?" one of Molly's classmates asked. "The Gryffindor Keeper? What's wrong with him?"

"He wasn't in the common room last night," someone else said.

"Neither were they," another added, pointing at Rose and Molly.

Rose ignored them and said, "We think he's dying."

At that, the class all began whispering to each other. Sweat was beginning to gather on the back of Molly's neck. It was becoming extremely uncomfortable standing in front of her class while they all talked about her. How long would it be before they guessed about her dad? Surely it wouldn't take long for them to figure out that her Rose and James were all related.

"Sir, we really don't have time to explain," Molly interrupted. "We need your help."

"Of course I'll help my dear girl, but why me? Where's Madam Pomfrey?"

"We don't actually know," Rose said awkwardly, "She's vanished."

"Vanished? She's gone?"

"Yes, sir. Now, we _really_ need to go."

"Oh, yes. Of course," He turned to the class. "You are all dismissed. Put away your equipment, we'll carry this on next lesson."

The three of them marched through the Hogwarts corridors, Molly and Rose sharing anxious looks with each other. Had they been gone too long?

After what seemed like an eternity of walking swiftly through the castle, they reached the hospital wing. Lily's cries pierced the air and Molly's chest filled with dread. They ran into the room, fear pumping through their blood. Everyone turned to look at them.

"Mol, you know how I said quickly?" Fred said.

"Yes, sorry. He took a bit of convincing," Molly replied. "How is he?"

"I don't know," Fred sighed, leading Professor Slughorn towards James. "It's kind of hard to tell."

Molly faltered when her eyes fell on James whose entire body was pale and clammy with sweat. His dry lips were still an icy shade of blue and his face was sickly green. His breath was rattled and uneven and his arm hung limply by his side, fingers twitching weakly.

"Oh my," Slughorn said. "My, that's awful."

"Horace is there anything you can do?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"I'm not sure, Minerva."

Harry swore loudly, stood up and stormed out the room.

"Do all you can," Professor McGonagall said with as much encouragement as she possibly could.

Molly couldn't take it. She turned away and sat with Rose on one of the beds.

"It's horrible," Rose said.

Molly nodded. Her throat was dry; she felt that if she spoke, all that would come out was a croak.

"I'm scared," Rose muttered. "I'm not doing anything, and I'm scared."

Molly swallowed, saliva scratched her neck, "Of course you're scared. You could lose both of your parents tomorrow and not even know until it's too late."

"But that's the thing. I know I won't. I trust them, I know they'll come back. They wouldn't leave me and Hugo."

"So why are you scared?"

"Because they are," Rose sighed. "They've all faced this before. They've fought a war like this before, but bigger. And last time, they thought your dad had died. No one wants it to happen again, no one wants to lose anyone for real."

"We won't. We have a plan."

"So do they. They have Madam Pomfrey and-"

"We don't know that for sure."

"Where else would she have gone? On holiday?" Rose said. "They're planning something, something bad. I almost don't want them to go."

"I definitely don't. It would be alright if we had some way of knowing what was happening, if they were all ok. But being left here, completely in the dark while our parents go off and fight, literally for their lives, fight for our lives-" Her voice wavered, "and if the worst does happen, mum wouldn't know that dad had even come to the school before he's dead."

"That won't happen, Mol. Twenty years ago, your dad survived being killed in one of the biggest wizarding wars ever, and now you're worried that he won't get through a little duel with an old man?"

Molly laughed dryly, "I suppose so. It seems stupid when you say it like that."

"It isn't stupid to worry about family," said Harry's voice behind them.

No one had noticed that he'd come back into the hospital wing, let alone that he was sitting behind the girls.

"When I was younger and had only just started Hogwarts, I didn't have any family to be worried about. To begin with, I was completely reckless because I didn't have anyone I was doing anything for, except myself. I didn't have anyone to protect. But as I grew up, my friends became my family. The only family I could remember. That family grew with me.

"Every year at Hogwarts brought a new adventure. It still does, apparently. At first, for me, then later, for my whole family. You would have thought that someone else could have an adventure instead of us all the time. It used to be fun, risking my life to save one person or another, but now I have a family to look after. A family to love. I don't really want to be the hero anymore. Not when I'm a father, not when I'm a husband and an uncle as well. I don't want to be the Boy who Lived, or the wizard who defeated Voldemort, I just want to be a good dad."

"And what if to be a good dad, you have to be a hero too? Parents protect their children, it's what they're meant to do," Molly asked.

"Doing something heroic and being a hero aren't the same thing. I could do something heroic in order to save someone, but that doesn't make me a hero, not at all."

"You will come back tomorrow, won't you?" Rose asked.

"Of course I will."

"And you'll make sure everyone comes back with you?"

"Everyone. I promise."


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Why did time suddenly have to move so slowly? The clock seemed to have stopped on 11:00, the second hand ticking uselessly around, timing a minute that wasn't marked. Stuck on the number 12 was the minute hand, jeering and taunting Fred. His feet danced nervously, his heart beating too quickly. He wished desperately that he could get the duels over with, or at least that there was something he could do in the meantime. But there wasn't.

The rest of the room was silent except Harry's echoing footsteps that bounced around as he paced up and down nervously. Every step Harry took sent shivers up Fred's spine.

"Harry, mate, will you sit down, please? You're giving me chills," Fred said, shattering the silence around him.

But Harry couldn't keep still. He marched over to the nearest seat, but then could do nothing but click his knuckles, or tap his wand against the arm rest anxiously. He then got to his feet again and stood at the window jittering slightly before moving to sit beside James.

11:05… 11:15… 11:30… 11:45… It seemed to take years for the clock to finally strike mid-day. When it did, however, everyone leapt to their feet and headed for the door. Molly tackled Fred with a hug and whispered, "Come back."

Fred nodded gravely and wrapped his arms around his daughter. Lily was grabbing onto Harry's shirt to try and stop him from leaving and Roxanne had tears staining her face as she watched her parents leave. Even Albus looked slightly concerned.

Fred and George led everyone through the castle and out through the front doors.

"We'll have to walk down to Hogsmeade. We can apparate from there," George said as the made their way down the front steps and out onto the grounds.

The cool air had settled like snow on the grounds. It didn't nip them, or bite them, the cold was just like water; they could walk straight through it and only get a little bit chilly. Students looked up at them curiously whilst studying and muttered to each other.

The twelve of them walked briskly down to the small village of Hogsmeade. Once on the high street, they gathered in a small circle and took hold of each other's hands.

"Ready?" George asked.

Everyone nodded and with a loud crack, they vanished.

Fred looked around the hillside. Trees lined the horizon and crisp, white clouds dotted the blue sky. He turned to George only to see a fox standing where his brother had been.

"Be careful," Fred said, "We'll be there in about ten minutes."

The fox bowed its head, turned away and padded towards the trees with its tail between its legs.

"Are you all ready?" Fred asked, "You all need to be really careful. They'll try and catch you off guard when you aren't paying attention, so make sure you keep your eyes on _your_ opponent. Don't worry about anyone else. If something bad happens, let me deal with it and keep duelling. And don't trust anything they say, they'll all be trying to distract you.

"Now, I don't know if you'll all be fighting at the same time, or whether one pair will go first, then another, etcetera. Either way, stay focused."

"Constant vigilance," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Yes, young Potter," Fred said stupidly doing his best impression of their old teacher Alastor Moody and hobbling around as though he only had one working leg, "You bust be wary of the trees with swords, they could attack at any moment. Constant vigilance!"

Everyone laughed appreciatively.

"Do not laugh!" Fred continued, "It is a sign of weakness! You there!" He turned to Ron, "Your cloak is undone! That could slow you down in a duel! Always be prepared for surprise attacks!"

Angelina looked at her watch, "We need to go."

They scrambled down the hill, feet catching on loose twigs and overgrown grass. When they reached the tree line, the could see cloaked figures standing in front of the forest, but before they could reach them, Fred wavered and stopped. One of the figures had their arm wrapped around the school nurse Madam Pomfrey, their wand pointed to her head, but it wasn't that which caused Fred to falter.

Lying broken on the grass between Fred and Malfoy was a ginger, one-eared fox, blood pouring from its side. Fred turned to Angelina whose face was pale in shock, "Don't do anything, he'll think he's won."

She gulped and they kept walking. Fred tried desperately not to look at the body of the fox as he took a step forward from the rest of his team. The only figure who wasn't masked from the other side also began to come forward so that Fred and he met in the middle.

"I see you haven't got your dear twin brother with you," Malfoy sneered with a sideways look at the fox.

Fred followed his gaze then immediately regretted it so snapped his head back. "Why did you do that? To the fox?"

"I didn't want anything… getting in the way. The poor thing, I thought I'd put it out of its misery. It's so thin and frail and perhaps you can see," he leaned forward to whisper into Fred's ear, "How it only has one ear. Must have had such a miserable life, I thought I'd do it a favour."

"Let's get this over with Malfoy."

"Why of course. I thought that we should perhaps have individual duels, one at a time."

"It makes no difference to us, it only means it'll take longer for us to beat you."

Malfoy sniggered and retreated slightly to address everyone, "Such confidence. Now, I must remind you to play nicely. We can make sure of that." He indicated to Madam Pomfrey.

"And how can we be sure that you stick to the rules, Lucius?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"Ah, Minerva, I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me. Now, who will go first?"

Professor McGonagall walked slowly toward Fred and Malfoy, removing her wand from her robe pocket, "I will."

Fred joined everyone else sitting on the grassy bank. He put an arm around Angelina, "He'll be alright. Just don't think about it, it'll distract you."

"Fred and Roxy don't know-"

"I said don't think about it."

McGonagall's duel was over within ten seconds. She swished her wand forcefully through the air, then pointed it at her opponent who was blown backwards and smashed against the tree. Rather smugly, she returned her wand to her pocket and joined them on the grass completely unscathed.

"That," Ron said, "was awesome."

"Why, thank you, Mr Weasley," McGonagall said, adjusting her robe slightly as Hermione got up and tread down the hill.

Hermione's duel lasted slightly longer, but she also returned as a champion, lip bleeding and arm twisted awkwardly. Fred kept his eyes fixed on Lucius Malfoy, he didn't trust how little he was doing during the duels. Malfoy sat quite peacefully in front of the trees. Fred tapped his wand against the grass nervously, accidently turning it pink as he watched Charlie face one of Malfoy's men. It didn't go well.

"No, Charlie, that's not how you stun someone! It's _stupefy_ not _stupid pie_!" Fred shouted, but it was too late. Fred sighed as he watched his brother get knocked to the floor, "Or you could just do it that way."

Bill and Harry ran forward and helped Charlie hobble back to join everyone else.

"Don't worry about it. We still have plenty of people left."

Teddy jumped to his feet and his hair turned bright red in determination. With every spell he cast, his hair turned a lighter shade until he returned, victorious with it milky white.

"Well done, mate," Fred congratulated, but despite their three successful fights, he couldn't help but get even more anxious.

The longer they waited for the battles to finish, the closer George was to death. That was, assuming he wasn't dead already. He could feel Angelina becoming more and more jittery next to him and knew that the longer she had to wait, the more distracted she would become.

Fred put an arm out to stop Harry from getting up and turned to Angelina, "You go now. Do it for him. Harry, you can go next."

Apparently, however, she had waited too long. Angelina's defences were lousy, her wand movements weren't precise enough to do any real damage.

"For George, Angelina!" Fred shouted, "Do it for George!"

But while this seemed to help a little, and her curses became a little stronger, Malfoy's team eventually gained another victory and Angelina dragged herself back to her friends, wincing with pain and bleeding.

"It's ok," Fred encouraged, "We still have a chance, we've won more than they have."

However, that wasn't true for too much longer. Even though Harry beat his opponent quicker than he could have walked up a set of stairs, Ron stumbled back glumly and Lee had to be carried as a hex to the head had knocked him out of both reality, and his duel.

Bill's wand moved faster than a diving falcon and within a minute, his opponent was lying on the ground wrapped in spiked vines, struggling and fighting against an undefeatable force. Fred clapped him on the back and turned to Neville nervously. To avoid a duel with Malfoy, Neville would have to win.

Fred could hardly watch. The man was at least twice the size of Neville; he would be squashed easily. The duel lasted too long. With each curse, both men became weaker, their defences worse, their spells less effective. Things were starting to take an unnerving turn.

"Come on Neville," muttered Fred, "Come on."

It was as effective as using a curse. Suddenly filled with adrenaline and energy, Neville became an unstoppable wall of power so he returned bruised and covered in blood, but still very much a champion. Fred got to his feet.

"You've lost, Malfoy," he said stepping forward.

Malfoy, however, didn't look even slightly fazed. While the rest of his men cowered behind him, he advanced on everyone else. Fred should have guessed that Malfoy wouldn't have given up so easily. Naturally, he was going to make everything so much harder.

"Malfoy, we've won," Fred said, "Let us leave."

"We both know that leaving while one of us is still lives will not fix anything. One of us must die."

"No, Malfoy," Fred replied, "The battle has been fought. It's over. Let us all leave."

"Think about it, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, "You know what must happen."

Fred turned away from Malfoy, "Angelina, go and get George. Take everyone back to Hogwarts quickly. I'll get-"

" _Florrectula_."

Pain exploded inside of him as tough his entire body had gone up in flames. He fell to the floor, writhing gasping for air. All his senses exploded. Completely blinded, Fred thrashed around, fighting for air, fighting for life. He couldn't feel the grass beneath him, or hear the shocked cries of his family. Pain. That was all he knew, pain. The planet could have blown up around him and still, Fred only would have felt the horrible burning sensation that had swallowed his insides. Oxygen should have been cool and refreshing, but instead, it scratched his lungs, scarring them and leaving Fred lying uselessly on the ground.

"Come now, Weasley, don't you want to save your family? They'll die…" Malfoy taunted. "They'll die and they'll suffer more than this."

Fred raised his wand just in time, to deflect a bright green ray of light. His vision was blurred, his hearing fuzzy but somehow, he managed to get to his feet.

"Get George and Madam Pomfrey and get out of here!" he croaked.

"We aren't leaving you here!" Angelina called back.

"Go! I have to finish this properly!"

"Fred-"

"Angelina, get out of here!" Fred yelled, firing continuous stunning spells at Malfoy.

"George wouldn't leave you!"

"You're not George!"

"Oh, well noticed. Fred, how would George feel if he knew we'd all left you?"

"Please, Angelina, get Madam Pomfrey, help George and leave!" Fred begged, momentarily summoning a shield between himself and Malfoy only for it to be shattered by a curse, "Look, if you aren't going to leave, at least help!"

Fred's friends rushed forward, but were met by a fresh set of flashes from Malfoy's miniature army. Lee, who could just about manage to walk, hobbled forward and picked up the limp fox.

"Get him out of here, Lee!" Fred shouted. "Get back to school! Take him home."

With a loud crack, Lee disapparated, holding George carefully.

"Stop!" Malfoy's voice boomed around the fields.

Fred scrambled to his feet. Malfoy and his ten men had formed a circle around Madam Pomfrey, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, McGonagall, Bill, Charlie and Angelina, isolating Fred. Their wands lay too far away for them to reach leaving only Fred armed, but there was no way he could take on everyone at once.

"Let them go, Malfoy. You can kill me and 'end this properly' but please, just leave them."

"No, Fred!" Angelina cried, "Please, just listen. I know you think you're doing the right thing to protect everyone else, but you're not. Molly needs her dad and George…" she faltered, "You saw what happened to George last time he thought you were gone. It ruined him completely. You can't let that happen again. You have parents, you have siblings, you have nieces and nephews and a wife. You have a child, you have a family."

"George is more than family. I couldn't -"

"Live without him? Use your brain, Fred. You can't live without him, he can't live without you. Not when he only just got you back."

"Come on, Weasley," Malfoy said turning to look at Fred, "Choose. Will you die, or will you kill me?"

"I erm… I… I mean I'll… Angelina, you said that George wouldn't want me dead, but he wouldn't want me a killer either. I have to do the right thing," he paused and took a breath, "but I don't know what the right thing is. I don't want to be a killer."

"Fred, what did you come here expecting to do?" Angelina asked.

"I thought they'd cheat, I thought we were doomed. I thought we'd lose."

"So that speech you gave us before we came down here meant nothing to you? You sent George down here so he could just die?" she shook her head, "You're lying."

"I'm not... I don't… lie," But that itself was indeed, a lie.

He was a prankster. A joker. His life was based on lies.

But not lies like this. Harmless, little ones, not ever anything that could get someone killed. Never. Especially not George. He turned to look at Malfoy who, to Fred's great surprise, had lowered his wand and was staring with great interest between Fred and Angelina.

"Family is more important than anything," Malfoy said slowly.

"Your family have saved my life before," Harry said, looking up.

"What?" Fred demanded. "They what?"

"Not for you. She did not lie for you," Malfoy replied sharply. "Narcissa did it-"

"For Draco," Harry finished. "For family, Lucius. She risked her life, for her family."

Fred watched the two men as though they were a rare species of animal. The sincerity in Malfoy's voice, the realisation seemed so genuine. Could a few, simple words really turn a man's black heart pure?

"It means something," Harry continued, "Family isn't just something to call your relatives. It's a home, a bond, a friend. And if you wouldn't risk your life for them and they wouldn't risk their life for you, then they're not your family. You would do _anything_ for family. I think that night in the Forbidden forest twenty years ago, I was protected by more than just my mother's love and the bond between me and Voldemort. I'm pretty sure Fred's Vow saved me too. I grew up with the Weasley's, they've always been more than just my friends. They've all done so much for me." Harry sighed and Fred was shocked to see a tear streaming down his face. It seemed glint silver in the sunlight and shine like a star. It drifted to the ground gently instead of falling straight down and rested on the grass before absorbing into the dirt.

"Draco saved me at your manor, yes? Then I saved Draco in the Room of Requirement," Harry continued, wiping away another silvery tear.

"But that wasn't for-"

"For family? No. You don't have to finish this, this 'battle' with death. Your son and I hated each other from the moment we first met. I'm not saying we're the best of friends now, but we ended a six-year war and neither of us died. You don't have to do it this way."

"But Dumbledore said-" Fred started.

"Dumbledore was mistaken. You didn't know what the Malfoy family did to help us in the Battle of Hogwarts. You were 'dead', Fred, they saved all of us. If we carry on this fight, we're going to end up in a worse situation than we started in. Even if one of you dies, the hatred will still live on with everyone else. This is not, how to finish this."

Fred met Malfoy's eyes, but they weren't hard and cold anymore. Instead, tears lined the corner of them. His face had fallen, his forehead beaded with sweat. Dropping his wand, Fred walked slowly towards Malfoy without breaking eye contact. Trembling, he stretched out his hand for Malfoy to shake. For a minute or so, the two of them stood there staring as though seeing each other properly for only the first time. Finally, Malfoy's eyes darted down to Fred's offered hand.

Uncertainly, he placed his wand in his robe pocket and grasped Fred's hand.

"It's over?" Fred asked.

"It's over," Malfoy nodded.

"Vow on it?" Fred joked and when everyone stared at him in horror, "Just kidding, just kidding."

With a final shake, they unclasped hands and Fred returned to his friends. Madam Pomfrey hurried over to join them, her face pale but otherwise unharmed.

"Poppy! Poppy are you alright?" McGonagall fussed.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Look, can we get back, please?" Fred urged, "For George."

Turning his back on Malfoy was the worst mistake Fred had made for a long time. He knew everything had ended too perfectly- he should have realised something else was going on. But shaking hands with Fred and calling truce, was Malfoy's plan to make sure he won. For just as everyone had joined hands in a circle and were ready to leave, quick as a flash, Malfoy reached into his pocket and produced his wand.

" _Stupefy! Florrectula! Sectumsempra_!" he yelled angrily.

"No!" Angelina cried as Fred roared in pain and began to fall forward, "FRED!"

" _Avada Kedavr_ -"

" _Protego_!"

 _Crack_.


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Tears streamed down Molly's face and splashed onto the stone floor. It had been too long since Lee returned with George. She looked across the room sadly at her uncle who was still too weak to transform back into a human and Lee who sat, head in his hands, next to George. Knees shaking, she got up and walked towards them. When Lee saw her heading over, he tried to smile, but the pain in his eyes was stronger.

"They're not dead," Molly said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Lee.

"You can't be sure."

"Harry promised-"

"Promises can be broken."

"I trust them."

Lee smiled. "You didn't see them. They don't stand a chance."

"Don't say that."

Lee looked over his shoulder at George, who rested limply on the bed sheets, staining the white covers red with blood. His fur was mangled and stuck together in clumps and his ear drooped over one of his eyes. Molly gasped, suddenly remembering something.

"What?" Lee demanded, "What is it?"

"I just… give me a minute."

She ran over to her bed, grabbed her wand and returned to Lee. Holding her silver wand in one hand, she placed the other on the fox's back. Her wand began to glow a warm orange colour and tingle slightly and the light spread from it to her hands- a sensation she had felt only once before. Gently, she began to stroke the fox. She laughed as the fur began to clean itself, the blood evaporating, the cuts cleaning and healing until the fox had a glossy, ginger coat. Everyone stared at her.

"How did you-" Mrs. Weasley started.

"I don't know," Molly admitted, without taking her hand off the fox. "I did it once in the park ages ago. I think it's something to do with my wand- it has a phoenix feather core and phoenixes have healing powers and silver birch is used for medicines I think, but I really don't know."

"That's pretty cool," Fred jnr. said in admiration.

She kept her hand on the fox's back until its eyes fluttered open. George the fox slowly stood up on the bed, took one look around the room and sat down before transforming back into a human.

"Where's Fred?" he asked. "Lee, what happened, who won?"

Lee looked at George sadly, "I don't really know. We beat them in the duels six-four but then Fred refused to kill Malfoy, so Malfoy attacked Fred. He had this weird spell that I've never heard before- _florrectula_ , or something-"

"I can't stand waiting here while they're all out there," said George.

"Isn't it lucky you don't have to wait any longer?"

Molly, George and Lee looked up and then seriously wished they hadn't. Everyone was covered in dirt and dried blood, some could barely stand. Hermione and Ron rushed over to Hugo and Rose and wrapped them in a hug. Ginny hurried over to Harry and kissed him while Lily ran across the room and leapt into his arms. But Molly's eyes were fixed on Bill and Teddy who, between them, were carrying Fred into the hospital wing. His head was slumped forward so that his chin rested against his chest and his feet dragged across the stone floor. Blood seeped through his shirt turning every inch of it a deep, scarlet red.

George ran forward to help, "No! He's not-"

"I don't think so," Angelina replied, taking hold of Roxanne and Fred jnr. who had sped over, "Not yet anyway."

"What happened?" Molly asked unsteadily.

"We were about to leave, and we thought that everything was ok, that we'd ended everything, but Fred turned his back on Malfoy and," Angelina sniffled, "he tried to kill Fred."

"He what?" George shouted. "How?"

"He started firing curses at him and then he said it."

"Said what?"

"The killing curse," Angelina sobbed.

Professor McGonagall sat down on the bed stiffly, "I tried to block it, to make it backfire, but I'm not sure if it worked or not. I don't know if I was quick enough."

"It was my fault," Harry said glumly.

"Excuse me, but for the sake of everyone that wasn't there, could you explain what happened?" Mrs. Weasley snapped, brushing Fred's hair out of his face.

Everyone took a seat around Fred's bed while Angelina, Harry and McGonagall explained the whole story, from arriving in the fields to apparating back to Hogsmeade.

"So is Malfoy dead?" George asked when they'd finished.

"I can only assume that his curse backfired and hit him. I certainly hope it did, otherwise-" she didn't need to finish. No one wanted to think about what had happened to Fred, especially if Professor McGonagall's curse hadn't protected him.

Hermione turned to George, "He'll be ok."

"You can't be-"

"Yes, I can. George, you're his reason for surviving. Most of us grew up seeing you two together every single day, laughing and smiling, and making us laugh and smile."

"It hurt him so much to leave you the first time," Ron said, "He didn't want to do it again."

"He said himself that you're more than just a brother to him," Teddy said.

"Actually, I said he's more than family," Fred's weak voice made George's heart skip several beats, "If you're going to quote me dramatically, at least get the line right."

"You look awful," George said.

Fred coughed, "Really? I mean, I feel absolutely amazing. Never better."

"Now, there's no need to be sarcastic," George joked.

"Sarcastic? Me? I don't know what you're on about."

"What happened to constant vigilance?" Harry asked.

"Do as I say, not as I do, Potter," Fred said croakily. "Always remember that."

Fred tried to ease himself up, but his arms couldn't take his weight so he fell back again.

"How come you look so good?" Fred asked George, "Last time I saw you, you were covered in blood and looked like a small mammal."

"I'm a fast healer."

"Clearly." Fred coughed again, "Seriously what happened?"

"Your brilliant daughter happened," Mrs. Weasley replied.

"Do you remember ages ago when we were in the park and met Uncle George but he was a fox and then I stroked his fur and it just magically cleaned?"

Fred nodded faintly.

"Well I just did exactly the same thing."

"It was brilliant," Lee said.

"I have no idea why it works though," Molly admitted.

"Who cares?" Fred coughed, "It worked, that's all that matters. Although, it's a shame you didn't do something about his big head."

"My head is perfectly normal, thank you very much."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"You're an idiot."

"Thank you very much. I'm glad nothing's changed."

"Anyway," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, biting back a smile, "We need to know if Malfoy's dead."

"I think he is," James said. "I've suddenly got better. So has mum and Roxy and Uncle Bill's rash has gone. I don't think it's a coincidence."

Fred sighed and closed his eyes.

"I didn't want this to end with murder. I wish there had been another way."

"At least we have you back."

"And I'm not going anywhere."

Everyone smiled.

"Seriously, I'm not even getting out of this bed, I'm too tired."

He yawned and stretched then rolled over onto his side to look at George. Everyone else got up, leaving the twins grinning broadly at each other.

"I missed you, Freddie," George said. "You were dead."

"I'll never let you lose me again. Not for a long, long time."

"It's not going to be a twenty-year thing, is it?" George asked. "You 'died' when we were twenty and then came back again when we were forty. Please tell me that you're not going to leave again when we're sixty."

"Don't make me think about what'll happen when we're sixty."

"Why?"

"We'll be old."

"Not as old as we'll be when we're sixty-one."

"That's a terrifying thought, George, please stop," Fred laughed.

"Or sixty-two."

Fred shivered falsely, "Urgh. Horrible."

"Or-"

"Don't say it."

"Sixty-three!"

Fred laughed, "I love you, George."

George smiled and wiped a tear away from his cheek. "We have to do something tomorrow," he said. "Something that means I know I've got you back for real."

Fred beamed and simply nodded. "I'll enjoy it."

The next morning, George and Fred had slipped out of the castle and out of the grounds before anyone else had even woken up. The two of them strolled down Hogsmeade high street before disapparating.

They stood before the Burrow together. Neither had stopped smiling since they'd returned to Hogwarts the previous day and standing next to each other in front of their home filled them with the most amazing feeling.

"I hope you don't mind a bit of a walk," George said.

The sun shone on them, reflecting their feelings as they trekked across the hills. The grass danced beneath their feet, the wind tickled the back of their necks until finally, they reached a large, flat section of grass. Fred recognised it, as though he'd been there before, but only very briefly. At least fifty stone grave heads were placed in short lines. The twins read every single grave until they stood before a jet-black marble one with gold, delicate markings which read:

Fred Weasley

A Loving Brother and Son and a Brave Soldier

Born- 1st April 1978

Died- 2nd May 1998 in the Battle of Hogwarts, a True Warrior until the End

George smiled, "I came here every day for about 10 years. If only I knew there wasn't actually a body to be mourning for."

"Ten years?"

"About that, then we had Fred and Roxy so I had to look after them. Sometimes I'd take them up here with me, it was about the only thing I could do to help."

"What a nice family day out. Very cheerful."

"It got the kids out of Angelina's way so she could have time to herself. I think they used to enjoy it- coming with me. We sat here and I told them stories about everything we used to do. Every single one made them laugh. I think they appreciated it, even though that's all I could do." He paused. "I was such a rubbish father. They pretty much grew up without me, even though I was right there next to them."

"George-"

"I'm glad you're back. We had to rely on mum and dad too much to help, especially when Fred and Roxy were young and Angelina was at Hogwarts. They were more like parents than I was. I remember once I almost set our whole house on fire because I'd been cooking dinner for the kids, went to sit down while it was in the oven and completely forgot about it because I was thinking about you. When mum and Angelina found out, I was banned from the kitchen for at least six weeks. But now, now I can be a proper dad. I can look after them and make them laugh and actually be there for them.

"But, in a way, I'm glad everything happened like this. Losing you was the worst thing that's ever happened, but I think I learnt something. I know it's shocking, I hate learning. But anyway, I know now I can't take anything for granted. I never thought you'd leave me, and then, just like that… gone. I didn't even say goodbye. I wasn't there with you. I have to appreciate what I have, because one day, it could all be gone."

Fred wiped a tear away from his cheek, but said nothing as his brother continued, "At Angelina and my wedding, I spent the most of the day pretty much in tears. Mum was running about fussing over everything, it made me remember something you'd said at Bill's wedding and from then on, I could think of nothing, but how much better it would have been if you were there. I should have been happy, it should have been the best day of my life. Angelina was the only one who was really there, the only one who understood, who could really get through to me."

"Sounds like you had a fun twenty years," Fred teased.

"Says the man who died and went to work in an office block!"

"At least I wasn't grieving over someone who wasn't actually dead."

"Don't make me seem stupid."

"You don't need help with that."

George laughed, "Shall we get rid of this then?"

"Together?"

George nodded, "Together."

The twins raised their wands and pointed them at the marble headstone.

" _Bombarda_!" they both shouted and right in front of their eyes, Fred Weasley's golden name exploded into thousands of tiny pieces and was whipped away by the wind until there was nothing but an empty space between the graves of Colin Creevey and Severus Snape.

"Did I have to be buried next to Snape?" Fred asked in disgust. "Out of all the other people here, why Snape and Colin? Did you want me to have eternal detentions?"

George chuckled, "Come on, I want to show you something."

George led his brother past lines and lines of graves until they reached the very back of the area, where there were two graves and four small memorials which were carefully carved into the basic shape of Hogwarts Castle. The two of them reached the first grave stone and Fred kneeled down to read the name on which had been scribed on it; Nymphadora Tonks, a caring mother, loving wife and strong witch.

The twins moved to the next, and only other grave which belonged to Remus Lupin. Fred's eyes scanned over the text until they reached the very bottom of the stone. In very small, beautiful font, were the words 'Moony', and underneath that, 'I Solemnly,' Fred straightened and stepped to the first stone model which was for Peter Pettigrew. There were only four words aside from his name on the plaque- 'Wormtail' was etched above, 'Swear that I,'

'Sirius Black. A Man's Best Friend.' Was written before 'Padfoot' and 'Am Up to'.

A smile was brewing as he bent down in front of the penultimate model.

"James Potter, a great father, even in death," Fred read aloud, "Prongs. No Good."

"The four Marauders," George said, "Our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, our rat, one of our best friend's godfather, and one of our best friend's actual father."

"And we never knew."

Fred looked at the final memorial. 'Lily Potter. A loving mother, sister and wife. Always in our hearts.'

The twins turned away from the graveyard, placed their arms around each other's shoulders and began to walk back through the countryside towards the Burrow. The breeze seemed to be that little bit warmer, the bird's song louder.

They pushed open the gate to the Burrow, hands scratching on the chipped red paint. As usual, the courtyard was scattered with chickens and geese and there was a large pond full of algae, all of which they passed on their way into the crooked house. Fred glanced around the room and smiled. On the mantelpiece were two photos, both cleaner and shinier than anything else in the room. One showed the twins on the day their joke shop opened, standing next to each other proudly. As Fred watched, the two of them wrapped each other in a hug then high-fived, beaming broadly.

The other had all nine of the Weasley's standing in front of the Burrow. Bill was giving Ginny a piggy-back ride around the yard while Percy glared at them disapprovingly. George was sitting on the roof of the Burrow with Mrs Weasley shouting at him from the ground. With his mother's back turned, Fred was leading Ron towards the large pond. A few seconds and a loud splash later, Ron was bobbing around in the pond crying. Charlie, who had been chasing a gnome around the garden, Bill, George and Fred were all laughing hysterically as they watched Mr. and Mrs. Weasley haul a soaking Ron out of the pond.

"That's ancient," Fred exclaimed. "We hadn't even started Hogwarts!"

"I think Bill was in his first year," George laughed. "Wow, we were cute."

The stairs creaked under their feet as they clambered up the dusty wooden stairs and pushed open the door to their old room. Absolutely nothing had changed. The two beds were positioned in exactly the same place, with the same red and gold sheets. There were posters stuck on every wall of Quidditch teams and dragons which Charlie had sent over from Romania, each faded and ripped.

"You kept everything," Fred breathed, "All of my stuff."

"I told mum that I'd sort through everything in my own time, that I didn't want help. But I never really could face it. I thought that if I just left everything how it was, then it'd be like you hadn't really gone at all."

"Maybe I didn't," Fred said, turning one of his old stuffed toys over in his hands. "Not properly."

George's heart had changed without his twin. Love, joy and humour had been stripped from him to be replaced with regret, emptiness and loneliness. Every happy memory, every laugh, every smile had been shared with his brother. Without Fred, it was as though George had never really been happy at all. It was a feeling that no one else could understand, or at least, not fully. Losing a twin, losing a partner, losing something he thought he'd have forever. So many sentences had been left unfished, so many pranks only half completed. Fred and George Weasley were completely different people, but when Fred had died, part of George had died too.


	35. Chapter 34- the Final Chapter

Author's Note:

So this is the last chapter, and I think I'm going to be writing the second option which was a follow up to Mischief Managed, so I might make it into a series, if you want. Sorry if you prefer one of the other options, but I personally think this allows the most freedom for me to write and would be the most exciting of the three. Enjoy the final chapter! :D

Chapter 34- The Final Chapter

Walking around the school with Rosie and Matt was possibly the best thing that Molly had done that year. Without the threat of being killed, Hogwarts castle was, once again, the exciting place it used to be. Molly no longer cared if people whispered about her as she passed them in the corridors. She could enjoy the last few weeks of her first year at Hogwarts happily and peacefully.

On the last evening of term, the Gryffindors left the common room and headed to the Great Hall for the end of year feast. Molly took her seat between Rosie and Tara in front of the empty golden goblets and plates. Professor McGonagall stood up in front of the school and everyone fell silent to listen.

"Tomorrow morning, all of you will be heading home again for six well-earned weeks of rest. I must remind you that you may not use magic outside of school unless you are over the age of seventeen, not that that should prevent you from completing the homework I'm sure you have been set.

"Now, moving onto our House Cup. In fourth place, with three hundred and eighty-seven points, is Slytherin." She stopped as the hall cheered, before continuing, "Third, with three hundred and ninety-two points, is Ravenclaw. In second, with four hundred and fifteen points, is Gryffindor so, in first place, with four hundred and nineteen points, is Hufflepuff!"

The hall once again erupted in a roar of celebration. The previously blue and bronze flags which hung from the ceiling, rolled up and then unfurled again, coloured yellow and black. Professor McGonagall took her seat and the plates were soon piled full of delicious food. It seemed like Molly had only been at Hogwarts for a few weeks; it was too early to leave. But upstairs in her dormitory, her clothes and possessions were all stuffed into the trunk at the bottom of her bed ready to be stacked on the train the next morning.

Molly, Rosie and Matt had somehow managed to pass all of their exams and were already excited to return to Hogwarts next year. They all promised to write to each other over the holidays, although Matt had done so slightly unconvincingly and awkwardly.

"Come on, Matt!" Rosie had complained as they dragged their luggage to Hogsmeade station. "You're from a wizarding family, at least it's not strange for you to use owl post!"

"Maybe so, but it still takes effort. We're meant to be using the holidays to rest, not write letters."

"You'll still do your homework!" Rosie protested, "It's only one short letter extra."

"Which is one short letter longer than no short letter at all."

Molly heaved her trunk onto the train and stored it in one of the compartments. She sunk into the seat next to the window and placed Pepper next to her. Still bickering, Rosie and Matt took their seats opposite Molly and just as the train was about to pull away from the station, Kitty Weaver appeared at the doorway and asked if she could join them.

For a few hours they chugged along steadily and Molly was happy talking to Rosie, Kitty and Matt. But when it seemed that the four of them had run out of conversation and were sitting together silently, something began nagging at the back of Molly's brain. Something which she'd been ignoring all year and had finally reached the point where it needed sorting. Telling her friends that she wouldn't be long, Molly slid open the door and forced her way down the train, peering into every compartment and carriage that she passed.

Finally, near the rear of the train, Molly spotted him. Surrounded by a bunch of his friends, Jamie Wood sat with his feet up on the seat next to him. The Hufflepuffs fell silent when Molly unlatched the door and took a step inside. A few of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats and Jamie sat up properly to look at her, the smile which had been fixed on his face melted into a hard, stone glare. He moved his fair hair out of his face and pursed his lips together.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning the House Cup," Molly said simply, "Well done."

"Thanks," Jamie mumbled, "You can leave now."

Molly ignored him and stayed firmly in the doorway, "I also wanted to say that even though you might be annoyed at me, I've forgiven you. Apology accepted."

She turned to leave but just as she was about to vanish around the corner, Jamie called her back so, smirking, she returned to his carriage.

"Molly, I'm sorry. I was stupid to be so rude to you just because I got put into a different house. I thought that because you were in Gryffindor and I was in Hufflepuff, that we wouldn't be allowed to be friends. You're a great person, Mol, you really are."

Molly didn't care that Jamie's friends were glancing awkwardly between the two of them, or that a few of them had turned away, pretending not to listen. Jamie's apology meant too much for her to properly notice. Awkwardly, Jamie raised a hand to shake with Molly but instead, she wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you," she said as she smiled and pushed her way back through the crowds of students cramming the train. She ducked past three sixth year students who were playing piggy-in-the-middle with some heatproof sparklers and carefully avoided the large group of students who seemed to be staring at something extremely interesting, yet also rather gruesome on the carpet.

When she rejoined her friends, Kitty and Matt were having a particularly intense game of Exploding Snap while Rosie watched with interest.

"You alright, Molly?" Rosie asked, tearing her eyes away from the game.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had to sort something out," Molly replied simply.

"And did you?" confusion and interest tinted Rosie's voice.

"Oh, yes."

"Oh, right, erm… brilliant."

The four of them enjoyed their last few hours being able to use magic munching on sweets and playing extensive games of Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap.

London grew larger on the horizon and soon every student was hurriedly collecting their items and stuffing them into bags and cases. The train screeched to a halt at King's Cross Station mid-afternoon. The doors swung open and floods of students rushed onto Platform 9 ¾ to greet their parents. Molly launched herself into her mother's arms.

"I am so proud of you," Kat muttered into her daughter's ear. "So, so proud."

Molly beamed at her mother before turning to face her dad.

"Long time no see," he winked. "Good year?"

"Brilliant."

"I'm disappointed," George, who'd been standing silently next to his brother said, "Not one detention."

"Bear in mind that she was raised by a teacher and an office worker," Kat laughed as she took Pepper's cage from Molly who immediately started explaining in great detail about the castle and lessons.

George and Fred met eyes and smiled before leading Molly and Kat away from the deep scarlet engine and back towards the barrier. The barrier which would lead them back to normality, if that was something possible to understand when you are a wizard.


	36. New Story!

Hey guys! I've just started writing the sequel to Mischeif Managed, it's called Wishes and I've uploaded the first two chapters. Please go check it out, I'd love the feedback!

Fi xx


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